


Teacher's Pet: Found

by saerayaa



Series: Teacher's Pet [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: BDSM, Couple, F/M, Fights, Got7 mark, Love, Mark Tuan - Freeform, Mentions of Rape, Romance, Sex, Shower Sex, Sickfic, Smut, Teacher Mark, Teacher!Mark, Teacher-Student Relationship, blowjob, got7 jackson, got7 jb, got7 mark tuan, got7 mark x OC, long fic, long story, mark and oc, mark tuan and oc, tom 1
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-09-28 11:13:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 32
Words: 97,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10097267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saerayaa/pseuds/saerayaa
Summary: Abigail is a 18 year old young girl who has everything for herself. Cheerleader, and awesome dancer, Abigail is just going through sexualization after a mental block arisen two years before. The object of her new fantasies? Her maths teacher, Mr Tuan. Intrigued and perpetuated by this new aspect of herself, she hesitates to pursue him. On the other side mr Tuan starts to express his interest for her.





	1. Chapter 1

> _I need to leave this party. I zig zag between the couples eating out each other’s mouth, making sure not to step on the guys who have passed out on the floor. When I think that I let Bea down for this party… I’d rather be spending the night at her’s, getting fat in front of the TV. I bump into Louise’s cousin, the one lending the place to her, as I walk out of the living room._

> _"Oh, sorry.” I stutter. The twenty four year old Brad Pitt secures his hands on my arms as I threaten to fall._

> _“It’s okay. Are you leaving?” He replies. I push my dyed red hair out of my face, and I can sense my flush._

> _“Yes.” I clear my throat._

> _“Ask Liam to take you. He’s playing taxi tonight.” He gives my arm an friendly squeeze. My whole body relaxes in relief, I won’t have to walk._

> _“Okay, thank you.” I smile shyly at him. He nods and I leave. Outside, a tall, brown haired, older guy is smoking a cigarette, leaning against an old junker, and I guess it’s Liam._

> _“Are you the Taximan?” I call and he looks up at me with his green eyes._

> _“Liam to serve you.” He says sarcastically. He must be paid for doing this, because he looks really unwilling. He pushes himself off the car and staggers, his eyelids heavy._

> _“Are you sure you can drive?” I ask. He looks drunk. He throws his cigarette on the ground._

> _“You want to go home or what?” He asks, exasperated. I don’t want my ride to get mad at me, I really need to go home. I purse my lips and get closer as he walks around the car. I make a move to open the passenger door but he stops me._

> _“Backseat.” He orders, climbing in. I oblige, because once again, I want to go home. Liam starts the engine._

> _“What’s your name?” He asks, looking at me through the mirror._

> _“Abigail.”_

>   
>  _“And where do you live, Abigail?”_  
> 

>   
>  _“Brentwood.”_  
> 

> _“To Brentwood we go.” He slurs. Alcohol radiates from his body, and I make a silent prayer to god so I can come home safe. The ride is quiet and calm. I look out the window, the night sight passing before my eyes, all sort of flashing lights and fluorescent sign animating the peaceful darkness, it’s soothing. Liam slams his door closed and I jump awake. The car is immobile, where are we? I look around, and all I can see us that we are on a park lot and I have enough time to perceive a shadow, walking around the car. I blink a few times and sit up._

> _“Liam?” I call. The door on the opposite side of mine opens up and Liam climbs in next to me. He starts to crawl to me, my heart starts to race, what is he doing?_

> _“What are you doing?“ He gets closer to me, his handsome face rotten by the alcohol. I back away the most I can but soon find myself pinned on the door._

> _“Oh, Abby.” I see a yellow glint in his green eyes. His face is close to mine, intimidating and bothering, and an animal aura radiates from him._

> _“Don’t touch me.” I articulate, but the shaking of my voice betrays my fear. He unfastens my belt and I raise my knees, using them as a shield as we face each other on the backseat of his junker. He pulls away and grabs my ankles, yanking them towards him and I find myself lying down on the leather seat. I scream. He puts a hand the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out a small object, from where, with a swift and sharp movement, a blade pops out._

>   
>  _“Shhhh, Abby.” He coos in the most disgusting manner. I crawl away from him and press myself as far away as I can, covering my mouth with my hands to smother small panicked cries escaping my mouth. "If you scream, I’ll have to shut you up. You don’t want that, do you?“ I shake my head._  
>    
>  _“Strip for me, Abby.” He commands. No, please, no. I shake my head, my lower lip trembling as I beg and plead for indulgence. “Strip!” The threat in his voice makes me jump and I gasp, beginning to fumble with the buttons of my sleeveless blouse._  
> 

I’m so glad me and Bea end up in the same class again. Bea is my best friend since kindergarten. She’s like a sister to me, she’s my half, my soul mate. Despite the uniform we have to wear in our High school, she manages to stand out with her super curly brown hair and her signature high side ponytail. She’s the cutest goofball on earth and made a dork out of me. We enjoy burp competitions and I am proud to say she made me discover that I could touch my nose with my pinky toe. Me and Bea have been cheering for nine years together, and I’m sad to think that this year, our last year of high school, will be the last year we will cheer too. It’s also my last year in Peddington High, a private school for athletes. The cheer leading section in quite disregarded here. 

Most of the girls are runners or volleyball players, and we don’t have a lot of guys in our teams. All the other sections, the runners, the basketball players, the football players, the swimmers, they all bring dozens of medals to the high school’s prize list, while the cheer leading club never manage to get in a competition.

 “What’s wrong?” Bea asks me as we walk to our Algebra class, in room B316. It’s our first day back at school, and I haven’t been able to think about anything else but cheer leading.

 “It’s our last year here, I’d like to bring back a medal.” I whine. 

“Don’t bank on it, Abigail. At this point medals don’t even matter anymore, lets just pray they don’t close the cheerleading section.” She shrugs, clutching at her skateboard. The bell rings, and Bea and I look at each other, mortified. Already? We’re still in the G block of the high school, on the complete opposite side of the campus. We take a run up and jump on our boards, speeding across the campus, and the bell stops as we enter the B block, we have three floors to climb at at least twenty meters of corridors to walk.

 “Sorry, we’re late!” I pant as I open the door. Whew, since when did my lungs get so weak? The whole class goes quiet and fixes us, and my eyes land on my Algebra teacher. 

Oh my god. My Algebra teacher is a tall, black haired young man. He looks, so young, way too young to be a teacher. His jawline could cut an arm, he has a sharp nose, thin but oh so full, soft-looking lips, and the deepest, brownest eyes accomplishing the painting of perfect beauty. I can sense his muscular body through his white shirt, tucked in black jeans as he leans against his desk, watching us impassively. He looks like an adolescent with his black low sneakers, but he is stylish, and this look suits him for some reason. I’m dumbfounded and intimidated by his good looks, he’s really really handsome. 

“Please, take a sit.” His voice is deep, but not too husky, vaporous but marking. There are two empty seats in the back of the classroom, and me and Bea take them silently, sitting behind Emma and Aurianne. “Let me start over, my name is Mr Tuan, and here is my e-mail address.” He point to the board where his name and email address is written, and I learn that his first name is Mark. “I’m going to start by calling the roll.” He announces, briefly turning around and grabbing a paper on his desk. He starts to call out names, and Emma and Aurianne take the opportunity to turn around and face us. “He’s so fucking hot.” Emma mouths, and Aurianne gives an approving grimace.

“I know, right?” Beam gasps, while I don’t say a thing. It’s the first time in two years that I find a man handsome, and I don’t really know how to feel about it. “He looks so young, he looks like he’s in his mid twenty’s.” Aurianne says to me, green eyes lit up with amazement. “Yeah, how can he be so young?” I frown, genuinely curious. “I am so going to love maths.” Bea concludes and I giggle. “Abigailia Kraige.” He calls, and Aurianne and Emma whirl around. I look up at him and he’s looking directly at me. I didn’t even say yes, how does it know it’s me. “It’s Abigail.” I correct him. “Abigail.” He mumbles, correcting the mistake with his pen.

“Can I call you Abby?” He asks casually. What the fuck? My nickname rigs in my ear and in the very back of my head I start to hear Liam’s voice, calling me Abby, whispering dirty things in my ear while he…

“No, you can’t.” I breathe, and I can see my reaction take him aback, but I don’t care.“Sorry.” He mumbles, and then turns back to the roll calling. “Abigail.” Bea whisper-yells and I look at her with questioning eyes. Hers are wide and painted with horror. What? What did I do? “He was flirting with you and you turned him down, are you crazy?”  Her face is contorted with horror.

“Can I call you Anna?” I hear the teacher ask so I gaze up, and he’s talking to Annabelle, a pretty little brunette. She has unbuttoned her shirt, exposing more skin than necessary, and she’s twisting a strand of hair, obviously swooning, her legs crossed under her desk. The perfect american slut. Annabelle beams at his words.“Of course.” She giggles, biting her lips, her silicone heart melting, her body mirroring it as she relaxes in her chair. I look back at Bea and give her a ‘you see?He’s like that with everyone.’ look. He’s just too lazy to pronounce more than two syllables

“I take that back. But you still acted like a bitch.” She whispers.“Saying ‘no’ is not bitching, Bea.” I reply.

“Abigail, Beatrice, something interesting to say?” Mr Tuan prompts and the class goes silent. We both look up at him and he’s gazing at us impassibly.“No, sir.” We both say.“I would appreciate that you keep quiet during my class.”

“Yes, sir.” Oh shit, I really did bitch at him, now he has it bad against me. The rest of the class goes smoothly, none of the girls chatting, not wanting Mr Sexy to scold them. They all pay full attention to his class about polynomial functions, while I debate on whether I acted like a bitch or not. The bell rings, and I start to pack my things, so do the other students, and Mr Tuan. When I walk out of the room he’s focused on his bag, and the lack of attention he gives me makes me walk back into the room.

“Mr Tuan?” He looks up and sees me, then looks back down at his bag, unimpressed.

“Abigail.” He sighs.

“I’m sorry if I sounded impolite when I talked to you earlier, it wasn’t my attention.” I say quietly.

“If you think I started being tough with you because of that, you’re wrong. You’re chatting during my class, I correct you, that’s it.” His tone is serious,severe, he’s not joking. My mouth dries out of words.“But I accept your apology.” He adds and I blink at him.“Okay. See you tomorrow then.” I slowly turn around and walk to the door.“Goodbye, Abby.” He says and I freeze. Did he really just- I turn around.

“Wait, it didn’t mean that-”

“I know.“He cuts me off, not even looking at me. I blink at him. “Abigail, come on.” Bea urges me from the doorway, bouncing up and down out of frustration and I reluctantly leave.

“What did you say to him?” She asks me in the hallway, eager as ever.“I apologized.” I shrug and I feel her smirk.“I thought you didn’t give a fuck about him.” She nudges me. “I don’t.” I retort and she keeps silent. When I look up at her she’s shaking her head. Hey! I really don’t give a fuck about him.“He started taking it out on us.” I argue. I know she doesn’t believe me but fuck her, I’m in peace with myself, that’s what matters.“And what did he say?” She asks.

“He called me Abby.”

 

* * *

 

I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body, and I stare at myself as I use a smaller one to wipe my face. My eyes land on my scars as I pass the towel over the skin of my neck.

> _I take off my sleeveless red blouse off, along with my jeans. “Enough.” He says and I still. “You look mighty fine for a 16 year old.” He compliments, but his flattery scares me even more. Tears rush down my cheeks, dragging my  mascara as they do.“Please don’t rape me, please.” I beg, shaking my head, but he ignores me and crawls closer to me. He pulls my ankles towards him and I’m lying under him. He bring his face close to mine and I have to fight the urge to throw up, he stinks._

> _“Are you a virgin, Abby?” He asks and I nod slowly._

> _“You must be all tight. It would be a shame not to feel your tight pussy squeezing my dick.” He fakes a comforting tone, and I know he’s not going to stop._

> _“No, please.” He groans and buries his face in the crook of my neck, trailing wet kisses all over my skin, creating a purple galaxy as he nibbles and sucks on my flesh. I’m going to throw up._

> _“Please, stop. Please, please, please. I don’t want to, I don’t want to.” I sob as he kisses me down to my chest, stilling between my breasts as I speak. “Shhhh, Abby.” He brings his face back up to me and places his knife just beneath my jaw, a silent threat that gives birth to a genuine fear inside of me. I keep quiet. He sits up and hooks his fingers around the cups of my bra, and he pulls them down, revealing my breasts, exposing me some more, and I weep._

> _“Look at those titties. You’re making me so hard.” He palms the roundness of my breasts and kisses each of my nipples, before sucking, and licking them, and have to cover my mouth to prevent myself from screaming, it’s disgusting. He lets go of my breasts and fumbles with his jean, unzipping them and sliding them down along with his underwear, letting his erection spring free._

> _“Look how hard I am for your pussy.” He rasps, crawling up to me so he his straddling my chest, the tip of his penis inches away from my face. I lift my chin and squeeze my eyes shut._

> _“Do you want my dick inside of your mouth, Abby. You want it, baby?” He asks, and I feel something poking at my lips._

> _“Open.” He orders and I turn my head to the side. I don’t want to, I don’t want to. “Open!” He says again and I weep. I feel a sharp pain on my neck. “Ah!” I scream, opening my eyes. He’s just made a cut on my neck. It stings. “Open.” He grabs my hair and pulls my head towards his penis. I oblige and take him into my mouth, and I instantly feel even more nauseous.  "Suck.“ He orders and I… I obey. Because I’m scared, and because I don’t want to die. And he thrusts inside of my mouth and moans and grunts for what seems like eternity. “That’s right. You’re doing good, Abby.” He pulls out of me and deep down I know the torture isn’t over, but I plead again. “Please, let me go.” I beg, and in an excess of anger he inflicts another cut to the skin of my neck, it hursts, I cry out. This time I decide to shut up for good._

“Abigail!” I jump as my mom knocks on the bathroom door. I put my necklace back on in a hurry. I use necklaces to hide my scars, the same crew neck floral necklace, but in different colors, that all match the Peddington uniform. “Bea’s downstairs, she’s staying for dinner.” My mom says from behind the door. I try to compose myself. That Mr Tuan, he’s handsome, so what? He is still a man, a primitive creatures with animal instincts. It doesn’t go further than that, it won’t go further than that. "I’m coming!” I reply before returning to my reflexion. This lack of attention he gives me, why does it bother me so much? I’m starting to think I’m slowly falling into the same mindset that every average teenage girl in front of a good looking guy, its disgusting, I’m better than that. Finding someone good looking isn’t wrong at all but why do I feel like a sinner? All those limits I impose to myself, are they really legitimate? In front of what? A pretty face? Gah! I don’t know. What kind of teacher would call his students with nick names now that I think about it, his intention was clear, towards me, Bea, Annabelle, towards all the girls. He is a payer. He knows he has a face and he likes seeing every girl swoon. It’s decided, I won’t swoon. Well, I won’t show it at least.


	2. Chapter 2

I’m swooning. Hard. Mr Handsome is wearing a gray sweater with the collar and the sleeves of his white shirt showing, black pants and white shoes, he is hella fit. Something bothers me, why am I swooning? I mean, I don’t want to like, or love a guy. Do I really not want to love? Let’s say I’ve just never felt anything for anyone after my  experience with Liam, not even a smallest feeling. But yet I’m swooning in front of this tall, dark haired, deep eyed, older guy. Wait, am I falling for an older guy? A guy that could probably be the same age as the man who raped me? It’s disgusting, horrifying, mortifying, this is wrong. The thought gives birth to a strong and rebellious feeling of anger inside of me. No, Abigail, no!

“Brody. Jeffrey. Abby.” Mr Tuan calls the roll, and he uses my nickname to call me, without looking at me, fueling my anger.

“Abigail.” I correct bitterly, and he lifts his eyes from his paper, and, ignoring me, goes on.

“Emma, Joey, Lisa.”

 I’m fuming. Why does do this? 

The class goes on, and I’m truly amazed by the silence that everyone gives the teacher, and by the participation of the girls, all due to a pretty face. The bell rings, everyone pack their things, leaving one by one.

  
“Go ahead, I’m coming.” I say to Bea as I get up from my seat at the back of the class and she gives me a small nod. Mr Tuan is packing his blue and white backpack as well, and isn’t bothered by the furious steps that I take to his desk.

“My name is Abigail.” I say firmly. He looks up at me, realizes it’s me, and then smirks.

“I know.” He says casually.

“Oh, you do?” I sass, crossing my arms above my chest. He walks around his desk so he is closer to me. As he walks closer I start to get intimidated, and my sass disappears. I take a step away from him as he leans against his desk.

“Abby, what is your problem?” He asks. I groan inwardly, uncross my arms, and sigh.

“I don’t like being called Abby.” I articulate, hoping to make it sink into his head.

“Why?”

“Because.” I spit back. I’m aware my exasperation is clearly audible in my voice. He cocks his head to the side, dark brows furrowed.

“Do you have a lot of friends, Abby?” He asks, and I frown at his question.

“Because I’m not sure people like you kick up such a fuss for nothing.” His words feel like a slap across the face. Nothing? Being raped is not nothing.

“It’s not ‘nothing’.” I say through gritted teeth. Now I’m furious, I’m going to cry. 

Mr Tuan looks quite shocked by my outburst. He eyes me for a moment, and I’m boiling with anger, and I know it radiates even though I try to hide it. He cocks his head to the other side and his eyes wander on my face, truly curious, fascinated even.

“Why?” He asks. I sigh and roll my eyes.

“Is it something personal?” He insists. This discussion is going nowhere, I decide to leave.

“Abigail.” He calls as I walk away, but I don’t turn around. I notice he’s calling me with my full name, and I like that, I think.

“Hey.” I meet Bea in the hall, she’s taking her cheer bag out of her locker.

“Hey.” She says back. I open my locker that’s right next to hers and take out my cheer bag, that I put on the floor my feet.

“What were you doing with Mr Tuan?” She asks, closing her locker and throwing her shoulder sports bag on her shoulders.

“I asked him to stop calling me Abby.” I mumble, feeling incredibly bitter and frustrated. I leave the books I don’t need in my locker and take the ones that will be useful for my homework and out and put them in my backpack.

“And?” She asks expectingly as I close my locker. I shrug. He did call me my full name, but the mischievousness is his every word and actions make me feel unsure

“Why do you want to fuss around with him?” She asks as we start walking to our cheer practice

“What do you mean?” I frown. What is it with that word? Fussing? I’m not fussing.

“You shouldn’t do this with him.” She scolds, as if I was spitting on gold.

“Because he’s hot?”

“No, because he doesn’t know.” She replies sweetly. I know he doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have to know I’ve been raped to be polite to me.

“Fine, I’ll stop with this, do whatever you want.” She purses her lips. I didn’t realize I was showing my frustration.

“First practice of the year.” She nudges my shoulder, giving me a wicked grin. Oh yes! I beam back at her.

* * *

 

I am truly amazed by the team we have this year. We have five boys, and one of them, Henry, is super muscular. Muscular enough to do a one arm liberty pyramid, which is amazing. We have ten new girls, all freshmen, and me, Bea, Melanie, Annabelle and Johanna are the 5 experienced ones. In the new girls we have seven experienced cheerleaders, and three amazing tumblers that will probably start by basing. This first practice put a positive note on the end of my day.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Today is Friday, it’s the thanksgiving break and I have this parent/teachers reunion thingy that keeps me away from skating the night away with Bea. My parents only want to see my maths teacher, because I have horrifying grades in this subject, which is quite surprising.

I’ve always had good grades in maths, just like in English, History and German. But the C’s I’ve been getting are getting on my and my parent’s nerves. When the hell did I start to suck at maths?

Me and my parents walk up to the B316 room. There are other parents, with their child. I wave at Emma and Auriane, they both look like their parents, but why to they look so alike? I’ve always thought they were twins.

Our appointment with Mr Tuan is at six thirty, and it’s six twenty five. Mr Tuan opens the door, in the same outfit I left him with, black velvet chukka low shoes, classic blue jeans in which he tucked a blue shirt, and a brown vest suit. My mom has to refrain a gasp.

“Hello.” Mr Tuan’s eyes get smaller as he smiles to my parents. 

“Hello.” Me and my parents say. Mr Tuan moves aside to let us in. As I walk into the class, which he arranged to have three chairs in front of his desk, I glance back at my mom, and she’s turned puce. Yeah mom, this is a face. We sit in front of the desk and Mr Tuan takes a seat behind it, papers spread everywhere.

“Abigail.” He sighs, picking up one of his paper, probably the list of the grades I’ve got so far. My parents are all ears, and I want to hide.

“Abigail is a very calm student but she does have some difficulties with math. I don’t think it’s a lack of work, it just doesn’t seem to be her thing.” He’s not looking at me, only at my mom who I think is having difficulties to breathe. He is using my full name in front of my parents, which makes me angry because I know he would never dare call me Abby in front of them.

“She’s very bright, a little bit hotblooded, but bright.” He looks at my dad, who turns and smirks down at me.

“It’s a family trait.” He jokes. Is he referring to the time I kindly asked him to stop calling me Abby? Mr Tuan smiles and I hear a small squeal coming from the depths of my mom’s ovaries. She clears her throat.

“We wanted to ask you if you could give her some personal tutoring.” My head whirls to her instantly. WHAT?!

“Of course. She can stay after class, we could do that.” I turn to mr Tuan, and he is making a favorable pout at my father who is nodding. Wait!

“Really?” My mother asks,and I look at her. None of them is looking at me, I am out of the discussion. But I am the main subject of this damn discussion!

“Does it interest you?” I turn to my teacher and he is looking directly at me. Gee, thank you!

“No. I’ll work harder. Please, don’t force me.” I plead my parents, looking back and force between them.

“Just try, Abigail.” My mother coos, tucking a strand of my natural auburn hair behind my ear. “No, just- please. I’ll try harder.” I turn to my father.

“We’ll see how your grades go, just try.” He says and I am helpless. I turn to Mr Tuan, and he gives me a smile.

“How about we start after the break?” He asks to me. Do I really have a choice?

* * *

 

The bell rings and the familiar symphony of chairs and pencil cases starts. I don’t move from my seat as Bea gets up to start her weekend before me, I sigh.

“Can you come home tonight? I can’t be left alone with aunty Edna, or I’m gonna kill myself.” Bea says, swinging her backpack on her shoulder. I watch as she undoes her ponytail and lets her long curly hair free. She runs her fingers in her hair, shake it so it goes back to normal, her hair is so beautiful.

“Sure. If didn’t do it before you.” She smirks as she picks up her board from the ground next to our desk. “Being left alone with mr Sexy for an hour, there are worse ways to go.” She snorts.

 “You say.” 

She giggles and kisses my cheek.

“See you.” I sigh and watch as she leaves. When she’s out of the door my eyes land on mr Tuan, gray sweatshirt and jeans, who is walking towards my desk. From the corner of my eyes I notice Annabelle walking across the room, towards the exit, but stopping as she notices me.

“What are you doing?” She asks us, and mr Tuan turns to her. 

“I am giving her private tutoring.” He says. 

“Can I stay too?” Her question is almost instantiate, rushed. 

“It’s an individual and personal tutoring.” Mr Tuan replies, and I can tell she’s flustered. She looks for another solution. 

“I could come on another day.” She proposes.

Poor thing. Her carnal intent towards this man is so obvious, I almost want to throw up. Is she that desperate?

 “I’m afraid I don’t have time left for you, I’m sorry Anna.” Mr Tuan says, and suddenly I have an awesome idea. 

“I can give you my seat, I know you love maths.” I get up from my seat l, and start to get ready to leave.

That’s a good idea, if she’s so desperate to fuck him, I can help her, it’s a good deed, right? Mr Tuan turns to me. 

“You’ll have to ask your parents first, and I don’t think they’d agree. Sit.” His voice is calm, but it hides a point of anger. And he’s right, I forgot about about my parent. I sit.

“Goodbye, Annabelle.” He doesn’t turn to her, his eyes are glued on mine, and I don’t know why. Why did it make him so mad? 

“Goodbye.” She mumbles, walking out of the classroom. 

“Why did you call her Annabelle?” I frown. He changed his attitude towards her in a second.

He crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I thought it was Anna, a nickname for your pets.” I refer to a famous comic of the 90s that me and Bea love, he probably won’t understand, but it’s so appropriate in this situation.

“Are you a comic fan or do you think Annabelle is my pet?” I shrug. He knows that comic!

“I call you by your nickname too.” He tilts his head to the side.

“To make me mad, that’s different.” I retort. 

“And why am I calling Annabelle Anna, then?” He smirks, he seem genuinely amused and intrigued.

“To watch her swoon.” I murmur. He snorts.

He uncrosses his arms and leans towards me, propping his hands on my desk. 

“You’re crossing a dangerous line, you know that?” For an unknown reason, he doesn’t sound very threatening. 

“You asked me a question.” I shrug. He eyes me for a moment.

“You really don’t want to be here, do you?” He murmurs.

 “You thought I would?” I reply and he laughs. Loud and boyish, it makes me mad. 

“You don’t even seem to be shocked by how inappropriate this discussion is.” I say as he stops laughing, but my words don’t erase his smile.

“Why, miss Kraige, we’re only chatting.” He stands up straight, and walks around the desk. He then sits down beside me, taking Bea’s seat. I’ll tell her mr Sexy dropped his ‘golden ass’, as she says, on her desk, she’ll pass out. He sits on my right side and puts his right arm on the wooden surface, turning to me a little bit. He is inches away from me, I swallow.

“Or maybe you think we are doing more than that. Are we?” His voice is low and throaty. I swallow. 

“No.” I say. 

“Then, I don’t see the problem.” He gets away from me, and his voice goes back to normal, and I notice I had stopped breathing. What the hell just happened? Yes, there is a problem.

“You’re scanning me, you’re trying to know what’s going on in my head. I don’t like it.” Here’s the problem.

 “Are you hiding something?” He replies immediately.

 “It makes me uncomfortable.” I say.

 “I am sorry. That was none of my intentions.” His reply picks up another question.

“What are your intentions?” I look at him directly. 

“I want to know why you don’t like me calling you Abby.” He says. 

“I don’t want to tell you.” I shrug.

 “Well, I am your teacher, I can call you everything I want, that’s my right. You can’t do nothing about it.” He leans in his seat, radiating with pretentiousness and confidence.

“I’ll talk to someone.” I threaten.

“One wink, and I’m forgiven.” He says. That bastard! 

“So you do like see women swoon.” I say. 

“Never said I didn’t.” I go speechless. His words smother me in a way that goes beyond my abilities. 

“If I really have to be there, we could at least work a little bit, I think.” I change subjects, because I’m fed up with him. And I realize that only I know about mr Tuan’s true self.

-

I stand in the dark, completely naked, a black peace of silk blindfolding me, my hands tied up to the ceiling. I don’t know where I am, maybe it’s dark room, or I’m lost in oblivion. All my senses are awake, I can feel a presence, I can hear steps towards me, I can feel the heat radiating out of me.

The steps come closer to me, louder and louder, and I build with anticipation. The steps stop right behind me, and nothing. I can still feel the presence, but nothing happens. I stop breathing. Then I feel his lips on my shoulder, dropping a soft kiss on my skin.

He secures his hands on my hips and keeps me in place a he starts trailing kisses from my shoulder to my neck, and when he reaches the spot where my shoulder and neck connects, I sigh. His action sends some kind of signal to a place in my lower stomach. His lips go higher in my neck, and he runs his finger tips on my sides, slowly, he caresses my skin, stops around my armpits and travels back down to my hips, before going up again.

He kisses a spot right behind my ear, and I fist my hands as it sends electricity down to an unknown place in me, and it feels good. Slowly, he slides his hands up my body until he is cupping both of my breasts. His fingers brush against my nipples, small noise escapes my lips. He starts palming them, and massaging them, and as he does he doesn’t stop kissing my neck, always on the same spot behind my ear, and then he pinches my nipple, and I moan.

I moan, silently, but surely. It was stronger than me. The noise I’ve just made encourage him, and he starts twisting my nipples between his fingers, and they harden and elongate under his touch, and the feeling travels to the depths of my body, and it tingles in a place I don’t know very well.

He doesn’t stop, and I start to build, I’m hot, and I feel like he’s everywhere, on my breasts, in my neck, on my back, consuming me, putting me on fire. “Mr Tuan.” His name comes out as a plea. 

“Yes, Abby?” I moan. His voice is deep and sexy, and I like my nickname in his mouth. 

“More.” I beg. 

“More?” He repeats.

I don’t know what I’m throwing myself into, it’s scary, thrilling, intoxicating.

 “Yes.” I nod, and he lets go of my right breast, and his hands slides down my torso, tickles my bellybutton, brushes against my navel, downer, further, there. I gasp.

I’m breathless as I look around my dark bedroom, searching for some kind of answer to what is happening to me. All my nerves are slowly going back to sleep after some kind of over stimulation. I think I just came in my sleep.

An orgasm. Here’s what happened to me, I’ve just got an orgasm. I’ve just dreamed about Mr Tuan touching me, and I came. It’s a sensation I never knew, I’ve never been stimulated sexually. Not only I’ve never touched my self, but it’s been two years that my sexuality disappeared after I’ve been raped. I fall back into my bed.

Now I know what’s happening to me, my maths teacher turns me on. And just the thought of him can make me come when I’m supposed not to be sexually active because of a recent traumatism. And something occurs me. I was tied up, unable to move, helpless, at his mercy… just like with Liam.

And I liked it. It made me come. This is so so wrong. My maths teacher, how can I…? Gah! There’s a plenty of cute boys in the world, in my school, why did it have to be him? And why did it have to be so strange?


	4. Chapter 4

Everything that has been happening to me is really disturbing. I have finally understood why mr Tuan was so perturbing, he was turning me on the whole fucking time, and I am to inexperienced, too stupid to handle this properly. If I want to find inner peace, I have to understand what sexuality is.

Plus, I’m a teenager, it’s the period you have to explore and get to know your body. I don’t want to know the scientifically side of sex, I want to know how it feels. I’ve heard aout this book about sex with a good storyline. What is it called again? I turn on my laptop. Ah! 50 shades of Grey. I know the answers of my question are in this book.

-

Wow. I’ve never read so much in my entire life. I’ve eaten those three books in a weekend, and honestly, the story is really good, but it leaves me as confused as before. I am Chtistian Grey, a person who went through a traumatism, I am totally closed to love, an I thought I was closed to sex too, but obviously not; is it good thing? Mr Tuan would be Anastasia, the one person that… troubles me and changes me, does it mean I’ll fall in love with him?

But in way, mr Tuan is my Christian Grey, maybe not as severe an mercurial, but as manly… and as sexy as him. Plus, he is the guy in the story, and he seems to have some kind of control. I understand why Christian needs dr Flynn in the story, he must have gone through the same interrogations as me. I can’t go see a psychologist, how would I pay for it? I can’t ask my parents, they’ll ask me why, and I don’t want them to worry.

Something else leaves me confused: the sex scenes. I’ve read them all, and they all left me indifferent. I felt absolutely nothing. The fireworks in my lower stomach, gone, nothing. I don’t understand. I think as hard as I can. I’m kind of a smart person, I can surely find answers. If I want to have answers to my questions, I’ll have to become my own psychologist. Maybe…

I put my phone away and lay flat on my bed in the middle of my dark bedroom. I take a deep breathe. Alright, here goes nothing. I close my eyes and imagine myself a sex scene from the book. I imagine a king sized bed in a big boat cabin. I imagine myself lying on the bed, completely naked, my left ankle tied to my left wrist, and my right ankle tied to my right wrist, completely restrained.

My breathe itches a little, and I swallow. I imagine mr Tuan taking place between my parted legs, his erection intimidating me. I imagine him leaning in and brushing his lips against the skin of my neck, then moving down to my collar bones, his hot breath heating me up. I imagine him going lower on my body, between my breasts, down my stomach, and I sigh as he stops at my navel.

I’m panting. I don’t dare to look down, and do my best to calm myself down, as I wait for him to do something. Then I feel his lips on my inner thigh, and he kisses me up my leg, closer and closer to the fire of my center. Then he’s there, on me, dropping soft kisses  where I need him the most. It’s a weird sensation, it’s at the same time feeding a carving, hut at the same time, fueling my hunger.

I let out a timid moan as he licks me and part my lips. It feels good. I know this sensation is only supposed to be in my head, but I feel it in my body, the same tingling sensation I want to fuel. I lift the waistband of my shorts and slide my hand in my panties, and my fingers graze my clitoris. I open my mouth but I manage to fight a moan.

I imagine mr Tuan slowly easing himself inside of me, filling me up, making me his. I imagine him kissing my neck and starting to thrusts in and out of me, slowly, tortuously, and the sensations radiate inside of me. Ah! I start to apply pressure onto my clit and rubbing it in messy circles, and it feels good. It gives a pleasure I’ve never know before, it tingles, and I love.

“Abby!” I jump as my mom’s voice tears me away from my reverie. I quickly remove my hand from where it and sit up. 

“What, mom?” I call back, and she opens the door. My mom is a pretty woman, I’ve got my dark blue eyes from her, and my hair too. She’s forty eight years old, but she looks like twenty seven, she’s gorgeous. She’s dressed into her pajamas. 

“Your dad is leaving really early tomorrow.” She says. My dad is a soldier. He had left for Afghanistan for six months, and had come back for thanksgiving but he’s leaving tomorrow morning, and my mom is reminding me.

“What time?” I ask. I have to say goodbye.

“Six in the morning.” She says. I remember the first time my dad left for duty, well, the first time I was old enough to understand it. I cried so much, I thought my dad was going straight to death. But I’ve learnt to deal with it. 

“Okay.” I reply. I’m going to wake up at 5:50. My mom gives me a small smile.

 “Good night.” She whispers. 

“Good night, mom.” I reply and she walks out of my room. I realize the sensation I’ve felt earlier is really volatile, and it can go away as fast as it comes. I guess that’s it for tonight, I don’t want to do it again.

* * *

 

I didn’t think facing Mr Tuan would be so hard after my wet dreams, but I can’t refrain this tingling sensation every time he speaks to me, or every time he calls me Abby. This sensation is so strong that I feel like everybody sees it, no matter how hard I try to hide it. And today is Friday, and it’s time for my private tutoring, alone with mr Tuan. 

“Are you done?” Mr Tuan asks, referring to the two exercises I’ve been working on, seated at his desk while I’m seating at the table right it front of him. I nod. I pretend to erase something in my copybook so I won’t have to look at him stalking over to me. He’s dressed in a hoodie, and he makes him look five years younger. I still can’t get around the fact that he is teaching so young.

“Show me.” He asks, and I hand him my copy book. He looks at it for a moment. 

“Everything is correct.” He states. I want to reply that I know, but I bite my tongue. He gives me my copybook back. 

“Why do you never give me this during the tests?” He asks. This is what I want to know too.

“You’re a very smart girl, Abby…” There it is, that nickname again. I look away from his eyes, fighting that tingling sensation that I sense coming, and my eyes land on his crotch as he leans against his desk. I notice a small bulge, not too pronounced, because his pants are a little be loose, but I know he’s packing something.

“Are you even listening to me?” His question pulls me out of my reverie. I look up at him, and I realize I haven’t heard a single thing he said to me.

“Yes, sir.” I lie.

“Abby.” He says, I understand he knows I’m lying. and the exasperation in his voice makes me look up at him, but at the same time his deep voice burns me and I start to feel hot. I’m turned on. I cross my legs to fight the sensation and his eyes don’t leave mine as I do. He looks at me in disbelief. Then he blinks and frowns and I don’t know what is happening in his head. He moves. He walks to the door and locks it. Oh my, what is going to happen? When he turns around his expression has changed, he’s looking serious but not angry. He walks to me and I swallow.

“You know. I’ve read a lot of books about psychology, physical sciences, economic sciences, sociological sciences, music, cinema-”

“To end up as a maths teacher.” The words leave my mouth before I know it but I hide my surprise. I don’t want him mad. He stops in his tracks and stares at me-I swallow- then, brushing me off, he continues his up and down pacing. I relax a bit. Oh Abigail, you and your smart mouth!

“And do you know which one was the useful for me these days?” He asks while looking at me and I shake my head.

“The ones about body language.” He leans against his desk facing me, gauging my reaction. Body language? I start to get nervous. My body is a mess when I’m in front of him, it could have said a lot of things. My heart starts to race.

“There are things that your body is telling me.” I swallow. This discussion is definitely inappropriate. I feel like I’ve been caught doing something wrong. Well, what I think of, my fantasies, all of this is wrong. But it’s just fantasies, and I bet every single of his female students think the same.

“What kind of things?” I ask and I still hope he’s not noticed my carvings for him. 

“I bother you.” He states. And his words immediately throws me back to the past. I was three, maybe two weeks ago in class…

_“Sir?” I raise my hand. He turns around and once he’s given me permission to speak with a nod if his head, I reach down with the same hand I raised and release my hair._

_“I can’t read what’s written after ‘delta’.” I lie while my hair falls down on my shoulders. “There or there?” He points at two different places where the word ‘delta’ appears._

_“There.” I point somewhere._

_“We can determine weather the curve cuts the abscissas axe or not.” He reads and I nod, returning to my copybook. He didn’t seem to be affected, or even to look at me. I sigh, correcting a mistake I made on a word. I look up at the board and start to copy, but now my hair is bothering me, it’s falling down on my copybook and I can’t see. I smack my tongue and sit up, pulling my hair up into a ponytail. I run my fingertips through it, making sure it’s flat against my skull, styling it. Then I tie it._

_“Stop playing with your hair, Abby. It’s bothering.” Mr Tuan says while I tighten my ponytail._

_“Bothering?” I ask. I didn’t want him bothered, I wanted him turned on and hungry for me. He sits at his desk._

_“Distracting and annoying: Bothering.” He explains. I bother him. I distract him. Is that a good thing? No it’s not, the look in his eyes, they are dark with a point of… playfulness? Gah! I don’t know._

Does he think he bothers me in the way me playing with my hair bothers him? Which way is that anyway? I don’t know if he wants me, yet he knows I want him. I feel exposed while he’s completely closed. He might as well turn me down. I’m at the wall’s feet and suddenly I want to run away. I’m scared he’s telling me this to turn me down. But it’s not by running away that I’ll know. I have to confront him. It’s not by denying that I’ll get him so confess his possible attraction for me, but I can’t say yes either. I swallow and compose myself, lifting my chin a little bit.

“What does bothering mean to you?” I reply and I think it’s a great parade. Great- I tell myself.

 “You want a definition? I think I turn you on, Abby.” My nickname out of his mouth has it’s raw effect on me and I squeeze my thighs together. Okay so he completely disarmed me. I was not expecting this. But I can’t walk away, I have to know if he feels the same. Christian and Anastasia’s relationship is based on their attraction for each other. But, do I want a relationship like that? This is a question I should have asked myself before, now it’s too late. How do I ask him, directly? Explicitly? Discreetly?

“You’ve told me several times that I bothered you.” I say and the question in my voice is barely noticeable. I stop breathing as I wait for an answer and for what seems like eternity he gazes at me, arms crossed over his chest and I don’t know what he’s thinking. I feel like I’ve jumped down the Eiffel Tower, I’m falling and I still don’t know if I’m going to crash or land on a cloud. 

“Oh and you do. Very much.” He replies and I inhale sharply.

I’m landing on a cloud. I could throw myself to him but something holds me back. He says I turn him on too, but I don’t feel like he’s giving me the green light. I blink.“Your grades are falling because you are sexually frustrated, by me.” He states and he’s terribly right. He pushes himself off the desk and walks to me, placing his hands on the edge of the table on either side of my thighs. He leans in and his face and lips are now inches away from mines. It’s dangerous- I stop breathing.

“Should we do something about it?” He asks, his dark blue eyes staring into mine. And his voice vibrates in the air, down to me, down in me, down there. It tingles and something wakes up inside of me. I’m falling again, my body disintegrates as I speak before I can stop myself.

“Yes, please.”

“No.” Mr Tuan breathes against my lips.

“What?”

“I’m not going to touch you.” He says, and gets away from me. 

“Why?” I ask.

“There are other things your body is telling me.” He says.

“The way you’re squeezing your thighs together every single time I call you Abby, its because you don’t want to be turned on, you think it’s wrong.” How the hell does he know that?

“Ethically, it is. I mean, I’m your teacher. But it’s different.” He explains.

“You think being turned on is as wrong as a sin. Which wouldn’t be the case if you’ve had sex before.” He says. I’ve had a penis inside of me before. I hadn’t asked for it, but I’m not a virgin anymore. 

“I have.” I reply.

“Listen, you turn me on, a lot.” He trails off. “But I’m not going to take your virginity just because I’m horny.” Mr Tuan says. 

“That would he the first time you show a little bit of scruple.” I spit back. He smirks.

“I could get you into troubles if you cross the line, you know?” He threatens.

 “You can’t talk about crossing lines with the discussion we’re having.” I reply, and my inner bitch back flips as he’s forced to shut up.

“If you don’t want to do anything with me, why did do this?”

“For the pleasure of seeing you swoon.” He says, and I find back the pretentious asshole I left a week ago. I feel stupid. What was I even hoping? I start to pack my things. 

“What are you doing?” His tone changes, and he’s confused. I ignore him.

“Abby.” He calls, and I don’t answer, instead I zip my backpack. 

“You don’t have the right to leave.” He says. I don’t care, I don’t want to be here. I don’t care about the consequences. I grab my skateboard and leave, ignoring his threats. As soon as I close the door my legs give up on me and I have to lean against the door for support because I feel like jelly. I catch myself crying .

* * *

 

“Abby!” I hear my mom call from from the kitchen. I pause Homer Simpson in the middle of his speech about donuts. 

“Yes, mom.” I say as I arrive in the kitchen. I immediately head to the fridge and pull out a bottle of apple juice and pull out a glass from the top shelf.

“Your maths teacher send a letter, he stops helping you.” I join her at the kitchen counter and she hands me a letter. 

“Mr and Mrs Kraige, I unfortunately have to tell you that I can’t give Abigail tutoring anymore due to personal reasons. With kindest regards, Mark Tuan.

Why does he send us letter himself?” I read out loud. I’m actually glad it’s over, I don’t want to face him again after what he did to me. 

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. 

“What a shame!” I feign sadness, and I think my acting isn’t really convincing to my mom. 

“I know you’re happy about it.” She says jokingly, pinching my cheek.

I give her a wicked smile and poor some yogurt into my glass. “Please, Abby, try to work harder, it’s important.” She says, tucking my hair behind my ear. I look up at her and give her a small nod, and her eyes land on my necklace. 

“You know you don’t need to wear those home, right?” She says. My hand unconsciously goes up, and my fingers graze the material.

Today, I’m wearing a navy blue necklace, the same colour of my eyes.

 “I know, mom.” I reply. She reaches out towards my neck, and I gasp. 

“No, please.” I take a step back, I don’t want to take it off. My mom has a reaction of surprise, and she lowers her hands.

 “I was going to hug you.” She says quietly. Oh. I can’t believe I could react so wrong in front of my own mother, how my trauma made me blind to the point I didn’t even recognize a simple display of affection.

Tears prickles at my eyes. 

“It’s okay.” My mom coos, stroking my head.

 “I’m sorry.” I hug her and bury my face in her chest. “It’s okay, Abigail, it’s okay.” She wraps me in her arms and kisses my hair.


	5. Chapter 5

“I have a very important announcement to make.” Coach Barnes announces while all the team sits on the mat floor. Coach Barnes is an awesome coach, she has an amazing imagination and always comes up with mind-blowing routines. Plus, she lets me keep my necklaces during practice. But a rumor says she’s currently divorcing, and she’s been quite bitter for the past months.

“As you all may know, I sent the video of our last routine in order to attempt the NCA High school championships.” She says, refraining a smile. Why is she smiling? Did we make it? If not, why would she be smiling? Why is she making us wait? She looks at each of the 20 athletes of the team, gauging our reaction.

“And we made it.” I gasp. WHAT?! I’ve never heard those words in three years in this high school. “Eeep!” Bea squeals, and I understand what is going on.

“We are going to attempt the NCA High school championships.” Coach Barnes says, this time unable to hide her joy. A brouhaha starts, and I look at Bea. She is beaming at me, all big green eyes and white teeth, and I squeal back at her.

“BUT!” Barnes holds her hands in the air and the brouhaha ceases. 

“We have two problems.” She says, and my shoulders drop. What? What problems?

“The competition takes place in Dallas, and the school won’t release founds for the trip.” Coach Barnes announces. I didn’t think of this, but it doesn’t surprise me at all.

“Why?!” Lisa, a freshman, is outraged next to me. 

“We all know why.” Mrs Barnes replies. What the hell is this sports school that disregards its cheerleading section?

“Each of us has to pay for the plane tickets, the hotel, and the food.” Coach Barnes sounds pained, she know it’s a lot to ask. I don’t know if my mom will agree. Annabell’s voice breaks the silence.

“Coach Barnes, it’s okay. My father wouldn’t refuse to sign a check.” We all turn to her, and for the first time in three years, I would kiss her blond ponytail. It’s true that Annabelle’s parent are super rich, too rich. 

“Are you sure? That would be wonderful.” Coach Barnes doesn’t want to hope, but still shows a little bit of faith. 

“I’ll tell my father about it tonight and I’ll give you an answer tomorrow, but I doubt he’ll refuse, coach.” Annabelle replies.

“That could maybe be one less problem. Next thing:” Barnes prompts. What again? 

“I need a second teacher to come along with us. I talked about it around me, and one of them is accepting, provided that he sees us perform.” She says. Pfft, I’m already in Dallas.

“He wants to see us perform?” Henry asks. Why does he sound so worried? We’re a good team. 

“I think he’ll like last weeks routine.” I nod. Last week’s routine was amazing.

 “We’re going to start warming up, then tumbling session, stunt work, and then full out in front of our guest, okay?” All of the team says yes, and coach Barnes seems satisfied with us.

“Alright, circle up.” We all get up and form a large circle on the blue mats, and we all stretch our arms out to the center. “Things go down on three! One, two, three,” Barnes starts. “Bullets!” The teams roars, and we’re up for a good practice. 

“Everybody, line up!” Barnes shouts as we all get into position or the warm up.

“We’re going to the nationals!” Bea squeals next to me, and I beam at her.

 “This is amazing, I really want to bring back a trophy.” I clap my hands.

 “Oh, don’t bank on it, Abigail.” Bea says, killing my good mood. 

“Why are you so pessimistic, Bea? We have a good team.” I pout at her.

“Bea! Abigail! Quit the chit chat, line up!” Barnes barks, and we obey. We start the warm up with jumps, crunches, all sorts of canning process, stretching, and some weird exercises I can’t describe.

After the intense part the warming up,Lisa and Johanna help stretch. While I do the splits they pull my arms behind my head, and usually when I can bend my back so much that I can see my back leg, then it means I’m warm enough. They also help me keeping my balance as I stretch for my spikes, holding my foot behind my head and pulling on it. I’m the center flyer, which means I’m always the one in the center during our formations, and it’s mostly because I’m the most flexible person in the team.

Then we start a tumbling session, cartwheels, layouts, fulls, double fulls, back handsprings, front handsprings, standing back tucks, punch fronts, I’m exhausted after it. I often throw up during practice, this is something really common in cheerleading, but this time, I’m okay.

We start the stunt work. My stunt group is composed of Henry, a transferred senior, Lisa and Johanna. Henry is super muscular he can pick me up and throw me in the air, and then catch me and hold me up with the palm of his hand, a one-arm pyramid, do you imagine? This is worthy of the Cali Smoed Team! I have no problem with my stunt group, Henry, Johanna and Lisa form a really strong base.

* * *

  
“One, two, three, four, five six, seven- Oh!” Coach Barnes interrupts her counting in the middle of my scorpion + kick double stunt, and Henry puts me downs as the coach walks off.

“Mark, come here.” Mr Tuan has entered the gymnasium, and is stalking over us, hands in his pockets. I blank out for a brief moment.

 “Mr Sexy is going to watch us!” Bea pinches my side.

 “Aow!” I scowl at her, but her eyes are glued to mr Tuan.

“Mr Tuan is going to see us perform today, I want you to impress him.” Coach Barnes says as everyone gather in the center of the mat stage. Mr Tuan gives the team a small smile, but says nothing. An awkward silence takes place in the atmosphere.

“Alright, last routine full out! Get into position, set up!” Barnes claps her hands and tears me from my shocked state. I obey.

“Ready?” Barnes has her finger on the remote of the stereo. No one, replies, it means yes. The music starts and we all extend the formation, taking more place on the stage. I land on the far right of the stage and turn my back to Bea, who is standing on the opposite side of the stage. And while the rest of the team moves, I take two steps back towards Bea, and back handsprings my way to the other end of the stage, Bea does the same as me, and we pass each other on the sound of Can’t Hold Us by Micklemore.

  
We join the rest of the team and we all back flip in union. Then my stunt group make stairs for me, give me an impulse and launch me in the air, spinning me around, as if I was loading up. Then I grab my foot and pull it behind my head with both hands. Then I change to only one hand and stretch my other arm out, posing. My partners give me impulse and launch me back in the air, I move I lay horizontally and fall down into their arms. Still lying my stomach in their hands, I put my hands on the ground and they flip me so I’m on my feet again but still in their hands.

They launch me up and I pose, one leg up next to my head, holding my foot against my temple, my other arm stretched out. With my stretched arm I grab my foot, holding it close to my head is I slide my other arm in the opening between my leg and my side. My partners give me impulse and I fly up in a kick double, kicking my leg up and falling back down spinning. They put me on the ground and we start the tumbling parade. I front handspring my way to my position, at the rear right of the scene and watch my teammates tumbling in sync.

The music switches to Light them up by Fall Out Boys and it’s my turn. I stand diagonally from Henry, we run towards each other and start with a cartwheel, pass each other with a back flip, and continue with back handsprings. The team forms another formation in the center. I stand on the right, Henry behind me, and Lisa facing me. I reach behind me and give Henry my hands, and give my right foot to Lisa. After an impulse I give Lisa my other foot and they swing my once, and I find myself at the top of a pyramid, doing a handstand with my legs in scissors, and Bea is doing the same thing as me on the left side of the stage.

I come down and we go on with one toe touch jump, one pike jump and one front hurdler jump. Then it’s the last part, the easiest, the dance part. I finish in the front kneelled on the ground and pointing in front of me. The music dies, and is replaced by heavy breathing. Mr Tuan and coach Barnes applaud as we all get up. I’m exhausted. Bea finds me and hugs me, it was a good performance I think. Melanie smiles to me, and Henry pats my head, I think we were good.

“What do you think?” Coach Barnes asks mr Tuan, and he smiles. “That was really, really good.” He makes a satisfied grimace, and Bea squeezes my hand. “Are you coming with us to the nationals?” She asks, and I squeeze her hand. Mr Tuan looks at each of us, for a moment, an my nerves are alert.

“With pleasure.” He says. “Yes!” I strangle Bea and she squeals in my arms as the others start to cheer as well. We are going to the nationals, we are in for a competition!


	6. Chapter 6

I can’t believe I’ve spent my whole Saturday babysitting for aunty Charlene, her sons are real monsters, worth the thirty bucks I earned. On top of that, she came back home late and Bea is waiting for me at my house, it’s five in the afternoon, it’s dark outside because of the winter, and I am pacing as fast as I can to take the bus. As I walk, Bea sends me a text, telling me our face masks are ready. As I type my reply, the front door of a building swings open, and before I know it, hits me right in the nose.

 “Ah!” I grab my nose with both hands as I fall onto my behind. It fucking hurts! 

“Abby?” 

I look up and see mr Tuan, yellow Jacket, black jeans and white shirt, eyeing me as if I had grew an additional limb. Does he live here? 

“Ouch.” I reply, glaring at him. 

“I’m sorry.” He closes the door and helps me up. “This always happens now that they’ve changed the doors. They’re supposed to fix this soon. You okay?” He asks. I sniffle, I’m not bleeding. 

“Yes.” I mumble. It still hurts. What is mr Tuan doing here? And why did I have to come across him? 

“What are you doing here?” He asks. 

“I’m not sure it’s your business.” I reply as I dust my behind off, and pull my sweatshirt down some more. 

“You come at the right time, Abby. I wanted to talk to you.” He ignores my impudence. Does he not know I’m mad at him? 

“You can do it after class, in school.” I reply.

 “Yes, but I’m proposing you something better, a coffee.” He says.

 “A coffee? With my maths teacher?” I arch my brow. It’s amazing how he doesn’t care about how inappropriate this is. 

“Good-looking maths teacher.” He corrects me, and I laugh. Not because it’s not true, but his attitude really makes me laugh, it’s a loud, sincere laugh that I try to swallow. I stroke my forehead, shaking my head. 

“Listen, if you have something to tell me, you can tell me in class, not in a cafe.” I walk past him, and he turns around.

 “Why?” He asks, and I turn to face him. 

“Because it’s crossing a line.” I say, my words mirroring his. 

“Don’t talk to me about crossing lines after the discussion we’ve had.” He replies. 

“Very funny.” I give him a fake smile, and turn on my heels. 

“I have a deal.” He says, and I stop. 

“You come grab a coffee with me, and I give you an A to the next test, you refuse and it’s a B minus.” I turn around, and see he’s serious. 

“This is not a deal, it’s blackmailing.” I reply, and he shrugs. I shake my head, this man is impossible. 

“Fine, but I don’t drink coffee.” I say. “That’s not a problem, I’ll get you a glass of milk.” He pats my head, and I slap his hand away.

Mr Tuan leads me to a cafe down the street and takes the liberty of ordering me a glass of apple juice, while he only takes a glass of water.

“What did you want to tell me?” I ask. 

“I know you’re mad at me.” He says. No shit, Sherlock! 

“It’s been two weeks, sir. You’re quite late.” I raise my eyebrow and take a timid sip of my apple juice. 

“I thought I didn’t care about it.” And now he cares? “I know I acted like a boor.” He trails off. “There are things that happened in my life that makes that my mental age is really close to a teenager’s.” He says. A teenager? Just like Christian. 

“A teenager? What happened in your life?” I ask. “It’s a long story, not really important. But because of it I had to act very mature and serious when I was absolutely not.” He explains. 

“And you know how boys of your age are. They are real pigs.” I almost want to snort at his choice of word. “The teenager that I am likes girls, so yes, I’m having fun leading Annabelle on, but it doesn’t go beyond that. As for you, I’ve never been attracted to a student before.” So I an a first for him, and he his a first for me, just like in the book. The idea is flattering. 

“I didn’t really handle things well, and I’m sorry.” He says, and I nod. “The thing is, I really, really want you.” He says, and I nod again. There is something in this discussion that bothers me. I’m not sure of understanding the significance of what he says.

 “But you’re a virgin, and I can’t have sex with you, I should make love to you.” He wants to make love to me? This idea that has been creating all kinds of fantasies in my head seems a lot less thrilling now. 

“You know, I’m not sure about wanting anything with you anymore.” I mumble. It’s true, I’m not sure anymore, I don’t know if I still want to explore this new part of me. His face changes from serious to pissed. 

“Oh, really?” He says, and his stare makes me look down at my drink. I shrug. I hear him move, and look up at him. He opens his wallet and drops ten dollars on the table. 

“Come.” He gets up and I follow him. Where is he going? I follow him out, despite my surprise. Mr Tuan grabs my wrist and pulls me in the closest dark and dirty alley, and the familiar scene of 50 shades of Grey takes me by surprise. 

I don’t have enough time to remember the exact scene that he takes my head between his hands and crashes his lips on mine, and I am lost. He moves his lips against mine and I kiss him back the better I can, and he starts to slowly take my breath away.

 He forces his tongue inside of my mouth and pulls mine into a tortuous and passionate dance. His kiss is hungry and aggressive, and it subdues me instantly, crushing me by its force. He kisses me as if his life depended on it, and I love it, and I want more. He pulls away way to soon, and tears me away from this moment of pure passion. His chest rises and falls as he pants, and I am as breathless as him. His brow are furrowed and his eyes are hard, and I understand what I said earlier made him mad. 

“And now?” He breathes. I reply with the sound of my heavy breathing, not finding anything to say. Now I’m sure, I want this man. As if my silence had talked, Mark nods in front of my quiet defeat. He sighs. 

“I want to get to know you though. I want to know why you’ve been avoiding sex and why you don’t want me to call you Abby.” He says. 

“Why?” Why is it so important to him?

 “Because I can’t make love to you if I’m not in love with you and if I don’t trust you. Im not that much of an ass.” He says, and I pretend his straightforwardness doesn’t surprise me. 

“You think you can fall in of with a 18 year old girl?” I arch my brow. He places his hand against the wall next to my head.

  
“The idea of wanting to touch a 18 year old girl hadn’t even crossed my mind before I met you.” He says. 

“You think I’ll open up for you just to have sex with you? You think you are worth it?” I reply. 

“That, is something that’s up to you.” He says. “Think about it.” He adds. It’s a proposition, and I have to think about it, just like in the book.

 “I will.” I reply. He nods and steps away from me. I follow him as he walks back to the place we met.  

“It’s going to rain, I’ll drop you home.” He says, and he sounds to much like Christian. He stops in front of a Mini Cooper with a blue roof, and I understand it’s his car. That’s immediately less like Christian Grey. 

“Where do you live?” He asks, and his question takes me back to my biggest fears. A ride alone with an older man, at night? No. The sky starts to cry, as if it was announcing something bad.

 “I’ll take the bus.” I reply as it starts raining. 

“Are you joking?” He asks, his face impassive. 

“No, I’ll take the bus.” I take a step away from his car. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Abby. I’ll take you home.” He says.

  
“No.”

  
“You can’t be serious, it’s raining.” He takes a step towards me. 

“Don’t touch me.” I warn. I don’t want to make a scene, but I don’t him to push me. He freezes, and his face turns to confused. 

“Abby, what’s wrong?” He asks.

 “Let me take the bus.” I reply. He sighs, and takes off his jacket.

 “In that case, take my Jacket, you don’t have a hood.” He holds it open for me. 

“No, keep it.” I say, he’s starting to get wet.. 

“Abby, I don’t want to get mad at you, take my jacket.” Geez, he really is like Christian Grey, so manly and authoritative, I obey, and put his jacket on. It’s way to big for me. 

“Take my number, and text me when you arrive.” He pulls the hood over my head. I obey, and save his number. As I shove my phone into my pocket, he takes my head between his hands and kisses me.  

“Be careful.” He says once he’s pulled away. Why did he kiss me this time? 

“Goodbye.” I say, turning around.

 “Oh, and, sir?” I face him again, and he’s looking at me.

 “Thank you for coming to Dallas with us, it means a lot to me.” I mumble. “You’re welcome, Abby. I’m doing it for you, don’t forget it.” He replies, and I nod before leaving him.

* * *

 

“At Last!” Bea says as she hears me walking in. I drop my keys on the kitchen counter and Bea walks to me, ponytail and oversized hoodie. “What’s this jacket?” She asks me and my mom appears. 

“You were with a boy?” She asks cheekily, what a kid.

 “Yes.” I take my hood off and process tying my hair up, earning a waves of “Oh’s” from both of her.

 “It was just an old friend from middle school, Mathis.” I lie. I choose to say Mathis because I know he moved to France and Bea doesn’t, so she won’t ask. 

“He was just being kind.” I say.

 

Guys sure know how to make a girl melt via text. His message make me flush alone, and I feel like Anastasia, lying on a cloud.


	7. Chapter 7

“I can’t believe we’re going to Dallas.” Bea says to me as we sit at the back of the plane, away from the rest of the team. We were lucky to end up next to each other, but we don’t understand why we are the only ones at the back of the plane. Bea took the seat next to the window, and I want to scowl at the idea of spending three hours watching people going to the toilets.

  
“I know, right? It was about time.” I beam at her. “You think we can win?” Bea ask me, and it’s my turn to kill her excitement. “Don’t bank on it, Bea. We’re good, but it’s our first competition. We don’t know how it works, and we don’t know the other teams.” I reply and she pouts at me, at I pout back at her.  
“Let’s have fun, then.” She takes m hand on my lap and squeezes it, and I smile at her. She’s right, we should have fun. 

As my eyes wander in front of me, I notice mr Tuan helping coach Barnes with her luggage. It’s been more than a week since mr Tuan made his proposition to me, and since that day he hasn’t called or texted me. As if he didn’t care about my answer to his proposition. I seriously wonder if he forgot about me, or if he was just playing with me, again.

“What would you say if I came to you one day, and told you I wanted to have sex with someone?” I ask Bea. “You’re interested in someone?” She asks immediately, and I feel bad for killing that spark of hope that I see in her eyes. “No.” I lie. “None of this is happening to me, I’m just wondering.” I lie again. Oh Abigail, you’re such a bad person. “Why now?” She arches her brow suspiciously. “Bea, I’m still the same, okay?” I roll my eyes at her, and she nods. 

“I’m aware that for girls like me, it would be better to make love rather than fucking, right?” I trail off. “Exactly.” She says. “And if I want to be in a relationship with a guy, I’ll have to tell him, and let him manipulate me.” I explain. “Yeah.” Bea nods. “But you know it scares me. I’ll have to find someone I can trust, and how would I do?” I ask. “Okay, let me get this straight for you. Love comes first, then it’s sex, okay?” She admonishes, almost scolding me, and I nod. “For most of people, the ‘love’ part isn’t very important. But in your case, you can’t have sex with anybody, so the 'love’ part is really really important for you.” I nod.

 "If I could give you one advice: forget about the sex for now.“ She says. "Really?” I ask and she nods, sure of herself. “Yeah, just find a boy that you like, and see after.” I nod at her advice. Sex is the main issue of mr Tuan’ proposition, how can I forget about it?,“Abigail.” Bea calls me, and I look up at her. “You would tell me if there was a boy, right?” Bea asks me seriously, and takes me all the strength in my body to look at her in her big green eyes. “Of course I would.” I feel bad for lying to her, but I’m not ready to share what’s happening to me. Everything is so… blurry.

-

I walk out of the toilets, closing the door behind me. As I turn on my heels to leave I am surprised by a tall silhouette. I jump but soon realize it’s just mr Tuan, all white hoodie and jeans. He chuckles at my reaction, truely amused and pretentious. “You broach me out of the toilets, do you have something even more embarrassing?” I nervously comb my hair and clear my voice, glancing around, searching for indiscreet eyes. “Did you think about my proposition?” Mr Tuan asks me. No 'hello’, no 'how are you doing?’, no nothing? Did I stop existing before the trip or what? How can he not feel bad about not texting me? 

“Oh Hi Abigail. How are you? Did you receive my texts?” I say, exaggerating my gestures, making the sarcasm in my words obvious to him, and he frowns. “Erm, no?” I ham confusion, and he understands, rolling his eyes. “Oh, it’s normal, I didn’t send you any. But it’s okay, because all I want is to fuck y-” Mark cuts me off by taking my head between his hands and kissing me. He moves his lips against mine slowly, soothingly, and I am impressed by the calm that invades me as he pulls away. 

“Try so keep it down, okay?” He says, and  I sigh. I shoo his hands off my face. “Why didn’t you text me?” I ask. “Because we are not together, Abby.” His answer feels like a slap in he face. At the time, I don’t know how I feel about it, but I know I don’t want to be there. “No, wait.” Mr Tuan grabs my wrist and prevents me from stomping away. “If you accept my proposition, I promise I’ll text you everyday.” He says, and I understand his little game. He’s acting hard to get, playing push and pull. He thinks he has all the cards in hands, but I want to play too. 

“I think I’ll have to think some more.” I reply before walking past him. “And you’ll have to stop kissing me.” I say, briefly turning around, and he gabs my wrist again. “Don’t overthink this, okay?” Mr Tuan says seriously. I don’t reply and walk back to my seat, only to find Max sitting next to Bea. I clear my voice exaggeratedly, and Max turns to face me, interrupting his discussion with Bea.

“Oh, excuse me.” He says, and I remember I shouldn’t butt in. Max really really likes Bea, and I think they’d look great together. Bea isn’t that into him, but I think with time she’ll like him. “No, it’s okay actually, I’ll take your seat.” I reply and Max grins.  As i wander in the alley I realize that Henry is he only person with an empty seat next to him, and that he’s right in front of mr Tuan. For Bea, I decide to sit beside him. “Max stole my seat so he could talk to Bea.” I say to Henry before he can ask anything. “He’s all over her.” He shakes his head in disbelief. Everyone think Max has no chance with Bea, but I’m full of hope. 

“I know.” I reply. In front of us, Kyle brandishes his selfie stick, and my reaction is automatic: I lean closer to Henry and make a V with my hand before he snaps a picture of us. “Hand it over.” Henry says to Kyle, and Kyle obliges, removing his phone from the stick and handing it to Henry. Henry takes it and I watch as he places his phone on the stick. I choose the Chrome filter, because it makes my light auburn hair even lighten and people don’t think I’m reddish. Henry waves the stick high, and I’m surprised that we can see my legs crossed. I smile widely and hold my arms open,  and Henry flashes his teeth as well and holds his thumb up before taking a picture of us. And we’re up for a selfie spree with people calling each other across the plane and snapping pictures together.

“Have you been to a cheer competition before?” I ask Henry once the silent selfie spree ends. “Yeah.” He replies. “Do you think we have a chance?” I ask. “Honestly, yes. Peachtree Ridge High are literally at the top, and we’re like, same level with them. You know what’s going to make the difference?” I shake my head. “You.” Me? “What?” I ask. “I know Peachtree Ridge’s center flyer, she’s my ex.” Oh, interesting.  "She’s definitely not as flexible as you, and you’re a better tumbler than her, for sure.“ Henry says. Center flyers are important in a cheer team, but it’s not important if they don’t have a solid background. "But there are nineteen other people on the team.” I say. Henry shows me his hand. 

“Jason, their best tumbler, sprained his ankle.” He folds his thumb in. “How do you know that?” I ask, and he winks at me, not wanting to disclose his sources, and I decide not to ask. “There is a girl who recently left the school, and they hired another girl in a rush, a totally inexperienced girl. I think it was fifteen days ago, maybe more. She’s in the stunt group of Clara, a good athlete. The thing is: How much time do you need to get used to your stunt partners and trust them?” Henry says. “Months.” I reply. “Exactly. I bet there will be a bubble in each of their stunt.” He folds his forefinger. 

“And the other three?” He shows me his three fingers left. “You beat them all.” He slightly punches my chin, and I watch, amused. I understand he does that to reassure me, and I find it sweet. “So, if we’re winning, it’s because the others are in a bad condition, not because we’re good.” I conclude. “The team changes every year. You’re our best flyer and yet you’re leaving at the end of the year, we are constantly trying to get used to each other, we don’t have a solid base. Yet we can do amazing things all together, and we’re always lacking of consideration. I take the victory as it comes.” He says, and I give him a point. I don’t really care weather we win or lose, I just want to do my best, and if the team really relies on me, I’ll do everything to make them proud.

-

“How do you like, get to know a guy you like?” I ask Melanie and Bea, who are in the same hotel room as me, each of us lying on our separate beds, me in the middle with Bea at my right, and Melanie on the left. “What?” Melanie says, rolling on her stomach to look at me. Like, let’s say, you’ve met this guy, you like him, he likes you, you flirt, you kiss and stuff, but you don’t really know him.“ Melanie takes some time to think, and Bea’s silence catches my attention. I look at her, and she’s giving me a questioning look, I roll my eyes at her.

"Bea for the hundredth time, I am  _not_  interested in anyone. See me like a pre-teenager, I’m just wondering.” I try to reassure her, but I’m not sure she believes me.

“I’d say you go for it.” Melanie says.

“Yeah, totally.” Bea agrees.

“Isn’t it weird?” I arch my brow.

“No.” Bea says.

“It’s never just physical attraction. If you can have natural skinship with a guy, then there is something going on, you know what I mean?” Melanie explains to me.

“So it’s totally okay for you to date a guy you didn’t get to know at first?” I ask and Melanie nods. “Yes.” Bea says. I look at her, dumfounded. “Love is fucked up, okay? No need to use your brain with this. So, one advice: don’t overthink things.” She says to me, her words mirroring mr Tuan’s. This is complicated for me, I can’t help but try to work things out. I’m trying to be my own damn psychologist for god’s sake.


	8. Chapter 8

“Abigail!” Bea urges me from the door of our hotel room. I sigh, as annoyed as her as I walk out of the bathroom.

“Just go down, I’ll be there in two minutes.” I mumble without looking at her or Melanie who stands in the doorway as well. I hear their footsteps fade away as I crouch down and look under Bea’s bed: nothing. I lift her pillow, her blanket, look behind the headboard: nothing. I look in the drawer of the nightstand next to her bed; it’s empty. When I’m about to examine my bed, I hear a soft knock on my door. I sigh and look up at the ceiling, searching for help. _I said two minutes, for fuck’s sake!_

“I’m coming!” I call out to whoever it is and flip my blanket over, nothing. Nothing under my pillow and my bed sheets. I get on all fours and search under my bed, nothing. The person knocks again. _Fuck!_ As I get up, I bang my head on my bed, the pain making me cursing under my breath. I stomp to the door, trying to scratch the pain away.

“Yes.” I can’t help the exasperation in my voice as I open the door. Mr. Tuan is standing before me, a black Napapijri parka, a black scarf, blue jeans and a red beanie covering his head, but letting his little coif peek out of it.

“We’re waiting for you.” Is the first thing he says to me, and as good as he looks, he’s only fueling my frustration.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.” I retort sarcastically, and his reaction is automatic. He reaches me and takes my head between his hands.

“No. No kiss.” I slap his hands away; I don’t need him to perturb me right now. Mr. Tuan looks surprised by my reaction, but doesn’t say a thing.

“I’m looking for my phone.” I mumble quietly, and he nods. Assuming he’s giving me time, I turn on my heels and resume my researches. I inspect Melanie’s section; her pillow, her bed, her nightstand. As I do I hear Mr. Tuan walking behind me.

“Abby, it’s right here.” I turn to see Mr. Tuan walking out of the bathroom, my IPhone six in its blue case in his hand. I sigh. I looked there like eighty-two times! I feel so dumb, and finding my phone back like this only fuels my bad mood. Carving for fresh air, I leap out of Melanie’s bed and snatch my phone from him. I need to go out.

“ _Gee, thank you, sir. What would I do without you_?!” Mr. Tuan says sarcastically, his tone mirroring mine, and I glare at him. He gapes at me as I stare impassively at his face. He grins and takes my chin in his hand, making my cheeks wiggle. My lips twitches, and he chuckles. He was trying to make me smile, and he succeeded. He turns his cheek to me and taps it with his forefinger, asking for a kiss, and I oblige. Satisfied, he kisses my cheek as well. All of this is so weird, yet so natural.

“Come.” He says, nodding his head towards the exit. It’s Wednesday, and coach Barnes decided that this afternoon would be a touristic day of relaxation before the two days of practice and the two days of competition. The others are waiting for us in the lobby, and we have a coach we rented with Annabelle’s father’s money.

Mr. Tuan and I step into the elevator and he presses the ground floor button. The door closes and we go down for an 18 floors trip.

“Did you talk about us to your friends?” Mr. Tuan asks me.

“No.”

“Not eve Bea?” I shake my head.

“Why?” He sounds really surprised, and I start to feel bad. What kind of friend am I?

“Do you think I should?” I ask quietly.

“I’d rather you didn’t. I’m sure you understand why.” I nod. So he’s just surprised I haven’t told everyone. And suddenly I’m surprised by the faith he puts in of me, I could ruin his whole carrier after all, maybe he’s not playing with me. I am lost. The elevator comes to a halt, and as I glance up as the lights go out, and we’re in complete darkness.

“My god.” I gasp. My reaction is not intentional but automatic, I reach out and search for Mr. Tuan.

“I’m here.” I feel him on my fingertips, and he pulls me towards him as a small emergency light diffuses a subdued light.

“Scared of the dark?” The tenderness in his voice prevents me from punching him in the face. He wants to sound mocking but his eyes are comforting, I let him go.

“Ladies and gentlemen we are sorry to say that a black out is currently affecting our hotel. We are trying our best to know what is going on, and will keep you informed. Please don’t panic, and don’t try to go back to your rooms, the elevators are out of service. Don’t takes the stares in the dark. We implore your patience.” A feminine velvet voice rings in the cabin.

“Great.” I lift my eyes to the ceiling. Mr. Tuan’s reaction is to pull out his phone.

“I have service.” He mumbles to himself, and then he calls someone.

“Lauren? Yes, we’re in the elevator… I know…okay…I’ll call you.” He says and I understand he’s speaking to Barnes. He hangs up and turns to me.

“The others are leaving; we’ll have to catch up with them.” He says.

“Wonderful.” I roll my eyes, sliding down the wall and sitting on the ground. There goes my touristic day in Dallas.

“Is it that bad, being stuck with me?” Mr. Tuan says, sitting on the ground next to me. I give him an apologetic smile. _No, being stuck with him is not bad at all._

“I think it’s a sign.” He says to me.

“A sign?” I frown.

“Yes. I say that this elevator won’t set off unless you don’t give me an answer.” I shake my head out of disbelief. Oh, there he was going. 

“I need to-”

“You need to think.” He cuts me off, finishing my sentence.

“You’re thinking too much Abby. You know how I would act if I thought too much? I would tell myself you’re too young, I would tell myself I’m a pervert, I would tell myself you’re going to tell everything to your friends and I’ll be fired, and I wouldn’t dare talk to you.” He says. Wow, it’s crazy the number of questions he ignored, and I can’t say he was wrong.

“But right now, what I know is that I think I could like you, if I don’t already, and that I’m dying to kiss you right now.” He adds, making me blush. He sure knows how to make a woman feel irresistible.

“What about you?” He asks. I pretend to think, contemplating the idea.

“I think I could become attached.” I reply and he grins

“What a good start.” He says appreciatively.

“Is that a yes?” His question puts me at the wall’s feet again, and I feel like taking a big decision, and I want to step back from it. But I don’t want to say no either.

“Sir…” I whine. Why is he so rushed? 

“Why is it so hard for you?” He asks. "I really need to think some more.” I reply. "If you want to know if you can trust me, you’ll have to try.” He says. The thing is: I’ll have to open up for him if I want to know if I can trust him, but what if he disappoints me? What is even his proposition? "I don’t understand. Are you asking me out or do you want to know my secrets? What do you want from me? What’s that proposition exactly?” I say.

"I want you to stop thinking.” He says. Why everyone telling me not to think? Not thinking is the best way to screw yourself. I don’t want to make a mistake; I don’t know if I will be able to handle it. I’m thinking again. God dammit!  

"You know what? I’ll reformulate my proposition:” He says.

"I told Lauren we would join the others as soon as we get out of here, but we could take advantage of the situation.” He says “We could spend the day together, just the two of us. We can walk around, we’ll eat anywhere you want, we can go shopping, or watch a movie, anything you want.” He proposes. A whole day with him? I don’t even need to think twice.

“Like a date?” I don’t know why this idea is so appealing. 

"Like a date.”  He confirms. 

"Does this proposition include texting?” I tease, and he grins. “Naturally.” He says, and I giggle.

“Then, I accept your proposition.” I reply. The cabin shakes a little bit, and then the lights go back on, and the elevator starts to move again. Okay, this must be a joke. Mr. Tuan chuckles as we go down again, just like he said.

-

“Does it mean you’ll start tutoring again?” I ask as we step out of the hotel. For me who’s used to the Californian climate, the intensity of the winter in Dallas surprises me. The streets are cleared out, but the cars have at least eight centimeters on their hoods.

“Do you miss it?” Mr. Tuan drapes an arm around my waist, I flush. 

"Well, it’s an occasion to see each other.“ I mumble, and he grins. 

"I’d be more than happy to give you private classes.” He kisses my temple. It reminds me I don’t know why he stopped at the first place. 

"Why did you stop at the first place?“ I ask him.

"Did it hurt you?”

“Why do you always want to know how what you do makes me feel?” I ask. 

“Because.” He replies. Maybe he was playing hard to get back then, and he just likes to hear that I cared about him. I feel like finding back the pretentious and egocentric Mr. Tuan.

“To flatter your ego?” I ask.

“Do you think I’m egocentric?” I see in his eyes that the idea could pain him, and my suspicions disintegrate. In fact, it did bother me that he stopped tutoring me like that, but then he must have calculated his action, as always. He’s always doing the right things to shake me up and make me flustered, and I hate it, but then I can’t do nothing about it because I don’t know how to drive him crazy, I know nothing about men.

“Abby, what’s wrong?” Mr. Tuan tugs at my hand and makes me stop in my tracks. I look anywhere but in his worried eyes as he pins me against a wall. He takes my chin in his hand and I’m forced to meet his gaze. I sigh.

“I feel like you’re holding all the cards. I mean, I’m not- I’ve never…” I don’t know where I’m going with this, and neither does he, according to the frown he’s showing me.

“I’ve never done this before.” I breathe.

“Listen, I can tell you everything about me, from my birth until now, but it won’t work if you don’t open up for me. You’re holding all the cards, Abby.” He says to me. Me? Holding the cards? I’m not controlling anything right now. But then if I’m like Anastasia, I do have some power on him. But then I am a Christian Grey in a way.  “Don’t think about this now, let’s have a nice date, okay?” He interrupts my course of thoughts. Why can’t I seem to be able not to think for a second? I smile to him, and he grins. “Can I have a kiss?” He asks, giving me his cheek. Will I ever get enough of this game?

-  
Mr. Tuan too me in a cute vintage restaurant with a bar and stools and old coffee machines, just like in the gas stations on the highway in films. After we seat by the window, a tall brunette comes up to us to take our order. Her attitude changes as soon as she sees Mr. Tuan. She shows him a warm and welcoming smile.

  
“What would you like to eat?” She asks him, not me. In fact, she doesn’t look at me. Mr. Tuan briefly eyes her and turns to me.

“Pancakes.” I reply.

“At this hour of the day?” Mr. Tuan retorts, and I tilt my head to the side. What’s wrong with pancakes? Mr. Tuan gives me a faint smile and turns to the waitress.

“Pancakes for her, and I’ll take a sirolin with green vegetables and a little bit of fries on the side.” He says, and the brunette scribbles notes as he speaks.

“The cooking of the steak?” She pipes up, big blue eyes glued on his.

“Medium rare.” Mr. Tuan doesn’t hesitate.

“Any beverage?”

“Apple juice.” I reply, and Mr. Tuan lets out a laugh of spite, shaking his head.

“Water for me.” He says, trying to calm down. What is wrong with me?

“And will that be all?” I am annoyed by the fact that she hasn’t looked at me once.

“Yes.” Mr. Tuan replies.

“Coming right up.” She gives him a warm smile and sashays away, her high ponytail moving provocatively.

“What is wrong with you?” I ask my teacher, who doesn’t seem to be able to erase his smile.

“Pancackes and apple juice?” He snorts. I really don’t see what’s so funny about this. The fact that I don’t understand his point makes him smile. “You’re adorable.” I take the compliment, but I don’t know how to feel about it. I decide to do what we are here for, and start interrogating him.

“Do you have brothers or sisters?” I ask him.

“I have a little brother.” He replies.

“What’s his name?”

“Dylan.”

“You’re close to him?”

“Quite, yeah.”

“Are you single?” I don’t know why I’m asking that, but then it’s good to be sure.

“I thought that was a self-obvious point.” He replies and I shrug. A self-obvious point? So, he’s a faithful person, good to know.

“Relieved?” He asks, a boyish and proud smile sprawled on his face, and his radiating confidence makes me flush.

Shortly after, the waitress comes back with our meals in her hands. “Blue sirolin steak with fries and vegetables for sir, and pancakes for the little sister.” She says, and my inner bitch cracks her fingers. Mr. Tuan snorts, but tries to contain himself.

“She’s not my-”

“I’m his girlfriend.” I cut him off, shutting her up for good. 

“Oh, my apologies.” She turns puce and turns on her heels. My inner bitch leans back in her armchair. As I look at her leave, I notice Mr. Tuan trying his best not to laugh to loudly.

“What?” I ask him.

“Abigail, you should take it as a compliment.” He laughs. I don’t even know what to say. I decide to let him in his own world and focus on my pancakes. “Jeez, Abby. Don’t let this sour your mood.” He says, and I can sense his smile disappeared. I ignore his remark.

“How old are you?” I ask.

“Twenty-six.” Eight years older than me, damn. How can he possibly be attracted to me?

“How come you’re teaching so young?”

“I had my high school degree when I was 15.” He says. Holy shit! He’s intelligent, just like Christian Grey.

“You’re a genius?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“You could say that.” He says not too convinced.

“Why teaching?” I ask, and he brings his brows together.

“I mean, you could totally be anything you want, why would you want to be a teacher?” I ask.

“It’s a long story.” He says.

“Long story short?” I insist.

“I had a crush on my math teacher.” He says. A crush would have made him dedicate himself to a not so well paid job?

“Fuck.” I whisper, and he hums appreciatively.

“Love fool?” I snort, and he nods.

“Not that much of a genius then.” I remark.

“Told you.” He says.

“You still can quit.” I reply, and he tilt his head to the side.

“You could do something else, something you like.” I shrug. Mmmmh those pancakes are heaven.

“I could.” He shrugs.

“What’s all those necklaces? You always have one.” I understand it’s his turn to ask questions. I start to get uncomfortable.

“It’s just an accessory.” I lie.

“And it’s just a bad lie.” I don’t reply.

“What are you hiding?” He asks.

“My past.” I murmur.

“Are they scars?”

“No.”

“Birthmarks?”

“Yes.”

“You’re lying.”

“How can you know?”

“You’re not even looking it me.” I freeze. How can he read through me like this?

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I murmur.

“You know; it won’t work if you don’t try a little.” He replies. “I’d rather it didn’t work actually.” It’s my way of pushing him away. He’s getting to close, and I don’t like it. But then the silence he gives makes me realize my mistake. He resumes eating in silence. “I’m sorry.” I finally look up at him.

“They are scars.” I confess. “But please don’t ask how I got them, please.” I plead. “Yeah, because you’ll be obligated to tell me.” He replies bitterly. “Because I won’t tell you and you’ll get mad at me.” I reply, and he sighs heavily.

“You don’t have to be scared of talking to me, you know?” He softens a little bit. “I know; I just need time.” I give him a weak smile. After a moment of eyeing me, he gets up from his seat and it’s on the leather seat next to me. He swings an arm on the back of the seat behind my head so he’s facing me.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

“Since when do you need my permission?” I arch my brow, remembering his numerous unauthorized affronts.

“You prohibited me from kissing you yesterday.” I raise my eyebrows.

“That’s why you haven’t kissed me since the elevator?” I ask.

“Did you want me to?” He asks, his usual confident diamond smile making me flush.

 “Yes.” I whisper.

-

“Look.” I gasp, stopping in my tracks as I spot a cute store on the street. "A vinyl store?“ I turn to my teacher, and he’s arching his brow.

"You don’t like?” I ask, but I don’t really care about his answer, I want to go in. 

 “It’s so vintage, I’ve always dreamed to go in a vinyl store.” He says as we step into the store.

“Why didn’t you go sooner?” I ask  carelessly, my eyes wandering around the store. Oh my god it’s so vintage! There is a jukebox and tons of old CD players, and I want to put all of them in my pocket.

“I guess I was waiting for you.” Mr. Tuan says, and I turn to him. What a Fiftyshadism. I smile to him. Suddenly, my eyes catch something behind him, I gasp.

“They have the vinyl edition of Nickleback’s first album, I am in heaven, or in the middle of a dream.” I breathe, walking to the stand with Nickleback’s first album cover stuck on the wall.

“You like Nickleback? I have all of their albums.” Mr. Tuan says as he walks beside me. He takes a CD in his hands, and he looks like a child in a candy store.

“I love them.” I reply, turning to him. We have common points!

“According to you, when was the peak of rock and roll?” Mr. Tuan asks me, and I immediately know he really likes rock and roll.

“94.” I reply firmly, and a light flashes in his eyes. He looks at me as if I had grown an additional limb.

“What?” I arch my brow. Maybe we’re not on the same page in which concerns music.

“Don’t give me that look. People who say it was 77 are real-” I notice a booth dedicated to Spyair, and I feel my skull explode. I gasp, and before I know it, I’m there, staring at Ike’s big eyes.

“Unbelievable.” I breathe. “I am in heaven.” If I was in a manga, I would have star-shaped eyes.

“You like Spyair? I love their songs.” Mr. Tuan asks once he’s behind me. I nearly disintegrate.

 “They are my all-time favorites.” I beam at him. Omg he loves Spyair too!

“What’s your favorite song?” He asks me.

“Niji. What’s yours?” I reply.

“No where now here.” He says, and I beam at him.

“I love that song.” The lyrics start running inside my head, and it’s good to know he thinks I listen to good music. I can’t resist the urge inside of me, I take the vinyl edition of Niji.

“I have to buy one for Bea too.” I gasp, and chose their song Little Summer, her favorite. I’m giddy with joy, I’m so vintage and cool, almost Instagramly. Suddenly, Mr. Tuan snatches the CDs from my hands.

  
“What are you doing?” I ask in horror. My CDs!

“I’m buying them for you.” He says.

“What? No.”

“Watch me.” He winks.

“They are twenty dollars each, it’ll make eighty bucks.” I argue.

“I know.” He says, almost reminding me he’s a math teacher.

“I can buy them myself.” I say, and he rolls his eyes at me.

“It’s a gift, Abby.”

“I don’t want any gift from you.” I imagine him giving me the keys of my dream Mini Cooper, and the thought makes me shiver.

“They are CDs, not an Audi.” Mr. Tuan says as if he was speaking to a kid.

“It starts with CDs, then it’s an A3.” I reply.

“Abby, there is really no point in arguing over this.”

“I feel like you’re buying me.” I reply.

“Abby, I am no Christian Grey in which concerns money, and I’m not trying to make you my submissive.” He says. But is his proposition that different from Christian’s?

“You still want to have sex with me.” The heavy silence he gives me grips at my heart. He stares at me intently, and I start to feel guilty, I could even say he’s making me regret my words. He stares at me impassively, but his eyes are making me guilty, and I have to look down at his nose. I swallow.

“Buy them yourself if you want, I was just trying to please you.” He says harshly hands me the CDs, and now they disgust me. He turns on his heels and leaves to pay for his CDs. I don’t even know why I said this, he hasn’t given me any sign of wanting to have sex with me, he hasn’t even evoked the idea, which is actually a bit weird. Does he not want me anymore? All I know now is that I ruined the moment. It’s a stupid book, it makes me say silly things I know he doesn’t want me to be his sex slave. I roll my eyes and shake my head, and as I do my eyes stop on the promotions for Magic’s CDs. Their song ‘don’t kill the magic’ is on sale. The irony of the situation doesn’t fail me, and I want to scowl at Nasri, the singer.

I take slow and careful steps towards Mr. Tuan as he queues to pay for his CDs. I’ve never felt this guilty before, and I don’t know why the idea of him being mad at me is nauseating.

“Sir?” I tug the back of his parka, and he briefly turns to me. As much as I thought his behavior was inappropriate, I hate him being so distant with me.

“I’m sorry.” I murmur. "Do you really think I’m like him?“ He asks. I want to say no, but then he has so many common points.

"I shouldn’t have said that, I know we don’t have the same relationship as them.” I reply.

“Then why did you react like that?” He asks me. I shrug, looking down at my feet. I don’t even know what got into me. I feel stupid, I don’t know what to say. Mr. Tuan grabs my chin and tilt my chin up, locking his eyes with mine, and his eyes have softened. 

"Can I buy them for you?“ He asks me. 

"Yes you can.” I smile, handing him my CDs. 

"Can I get a kiss too?“ He gives me his cheek. I make a move to kiss him but when he turns his head and kisses me first I know he’s back with me.

-

Me and Mr. Tuan meander in the streets after a snowball fight, hand in head, enjoying each other’s company. I don’t really know where we going, it’s dark, quiet but yet lively, and I think Dallas is a really cool city.

"What’s your parents’ job?” Mr. Tuan asks me, breaking the silence that had taken place between us.

“My mom works in publishing and my father is a soldier.” I reply. “My father is in the army too.” Oh.

 “Really?” I ask, and he hums in response. I’d love to see a picture of his parents, get to see the people who made such a beautiful person.

“You said you were realizing it wasn’t all about sex.” Mr. Tuan says after another moment of silence.  
“And?” I ask.

“What did you mean by that?” Oh, so he’s pulling me this time. It’s my turn to play hard to get.

 “Did it perturb you?” I tease, doing my best to hide my intentions and sounding truly curious. Well, I actually am.

“I thought it meant you liked me a little bit.” He shrugs. Oh that’s good. My subconscious hugs herself and squeals.

“Well, I don’t like you at all so…” I say jokingly, enjoying having him vulnerable. His face falls, and mine as well.

“I was joking, Mr. Tuan.” I say quietly. His face hardens.

“Do you think it’s funny?” He asks dryly.

“Sorry.” I roll my eyes. Jeez! Do I react like that when he plays hard to get? 

“Hey.” Mr. Tuan says as he realizes his outburst. He tugs at my hand and stops me in my tracks. I look up at him impassively, and his eyes are apologetic.

“I’m sorry, okay?” He says.

“I just need to know if I’m heading straight into a wall or not.” I purse my lips. Maybe I just can’t play hard to get.

“I may like you.” I give in, and he grins, proud and boyish, and his smile is contagious. Happy, eh?

“Me too.” He says, and I try not to show it does something to me. Then all my interrogations come back to me like a wave, and I feel like engaging myself into something that goes beyond me.

“But-”

“No.” He cuts me off, and I keep silent. “We’ll see the buts later. What do you want to do now?” He says. Stop thinking, Abigail!

“I want to go back to the hotel.” I reply.

“Really?” He can’t hide his disappointment.

 “I’m cold.” I purr, taking a step closer to him and burring myself against his chest as he wraps his arms around me.

“Fine.  We’ll take a taxi.” He says.

-

I’m glad to be back to the hotel, it’s so cold outside. It’s already dark and freezing, and all I need now is a hot chocolate and some tender pancakes. Mr. Tuan told me the others won’t come until six thirty, which give us about two hours of nothing, and it would be a shame not to take advantage of the situation. I proposed him to watch a movie in his hotel room. It’s only after he accepted that I realize the innuendo in my proposition. Is something going to happen in this room? Is that why he accepted? Is he expecting something from me? Will I be able to give it to him? Do I even want something to happen?

I don’t have the time to answer all of those questions that make my skull fume with confusion, I’m already laying down beside him with my favorite movie, Austin Powers, playing on the TV. I don’t know how to explain the way things escalated. What is a look? A touch? A caress? I don’t know how that spark came to life between us but there I am, as hungry as ever, every cell of my body devouring him.

I’m on top of him, straddling his waist, my fingers curling in his hair as I kiss him. I pull is tongue into a tortuous dance, and he takes my breath away. This kiss is the wake up call to this tingling sensation in the depths of my body, and I’m aching for him. One hand on my backside, the other in my hair, he holds me close to him, and I feel it, this mutual attraction making the atmosphere electric.

I can feel his erection straining against my groin, his hard shaft pressed onto my center as I shift fractionally. His hands are all over me, running, caressing, squeezing, paling, claiming my body as his, and I want to give myself to him, I want him to feed my carving. He flips us over and I’m lying under him, and my heart starts to race.

The pleasure evaporates and a familiar fear grips at my heart. He’s towering over me, his mouth all over my neck, and I feel like at any moment I could look at his face and see Liam take his good time on me. I feel vulnerable, at his mercy, I can’t control anything, I’m scared.

“Wait.” I breathe, pushing him off me. My voice is high pitched, shaky, barely audible over the TV, like a silent cry. His actions cease immediately and he locks his eyes with mine. I bring my hands to my mouth, and he brings is brow together. Tears run down my face, and I’m mortified.

“What’s wrong?” His face vanishes. I’m breaking down in front of him, I want to hide. How have I been so stupid? How did I not think of that? Did I really think I could have sex with him without him being on top of me? I have to go; I have to walk away from this. I make a move to run away.

“Abby.” He grabs my arm as I try to leap out of bed. He drafts me back to him, and I collide with his chest. Suddenly, all my strengths leave me. I don’t have the strength to fight him, and I realize it’s an effect he has on me since a long time. I burst into tears.

“Hey.” He says, moving to face me.

“Abby what’s wrong?” He takes my face between his hands and locks his alarmed eyes with mine.

“Abby, I’m sorry.” He says. I’m sure he doesn’t know what he’s sorry for. His eyes search into mine as I try to calm myself down. I think deep down I want him to know, I want him to understand and to help me, but I don’t have the strength to tell him.

“What on earth could traumatize so much?” He whispers, his thumb caressing my cheek. His eyes search and then his eyebrows cease. Something occurs him.

“Abby, just answer my question.” I sniffle in response. Is he really trying to guess what happened to me?

“Have you been raped?” He asks, and my reaction is totally unwanted, I burst into tears, giving the answer away.

“Am I right? Is that it?” I just can’t stop crying. I sob some more and he understands he’s right, cuddling me against his chest as I cry myself out. It feels liberating in a way, but then the thought of Liam won’t go away, and I can’t bare it. Eventually, once I’m all cried out, I manage to mumble something.

“Sorry.” I whisper at the sight of the stain I made on his T-shirt. I pull away from him and wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

“For what?” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. I feel like it’s too much baggage for him, that’s why I apologize. I don’t answer. I can’t compare my experience with Christian Grey’s, but I’m scared he is going to leave me now that he knows. And I understand Christian, Mr. Tuan is the only person who makes me feel this good, I don’t want to scare him away. Well, right now he’s still here. But then who would leave in such a situation. Maybe he’s just being polite and comforting me, maybe he’s already thinking about how he’s going to put an end to our relationship. I need to know.

“Now what do we do?” I ask quietly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I shake my head. Mr. Tuan kisses me and takes place behind me, settling me between his warped legs, sneaking his arms around me and pulling me to him so I’m leaning against him. We lay here for a moment, as Austin Powers desperately tries to save his mojo. Suddenly I feel stupid. How can we not talk about this? Like, I’ve just revealed him a shocking information about myself and we’re just brushing it off in front of the TV?

“How did you guess?” I ask him after a moment.

“You clearly had a problem with sex, and your scars, and the way you got scared… You’re always so strong and brave and fearless… I’d never thought I’d ever see you this frightened.” He says.

“I don’t like people being on top of me.” I mumble quietly.

“Like a hard limit?” He asks. Is it really a hard limit? I thought being called Abby was a hard limit for me, but then it doesn’t bother me when it’s him. But then I didn’t expect to react that way. Will I ever get past this limit?

“Like touching for Christian.” I reply.

“You’re very Christian Grey-ish, you know?” He says, his words mirroring mine, and I smile. It’s crazy how my heart feels lighter now he understands me, and understands why I don’t like to be called Abby. I realize he is probably feeling guilty for not listening to me.

“You can call me Abby.” I say to him.

“It doesn’t bother you?” He asks. I take his hand in mine and start to play with his fingers, caressing them.

“Since when do you care?” I ask. His hands are so big.

“Since I laid my eyes on you.” He replies. I think about our discussion in the classroom.

“You’ve had a weird way of showing it.” I arch my brow though he can’t see me.

“I know, and I’ve apologized for it. Did I get better?” He says. The day we spent together comes back to me like a movie, the vinyl store, the snow, walking hand in hand with him, a smile ghosts over my face.

“Let’s say you’ve been saying the right things.” I reply petulantly, and I can sense his grin. Wow, he has beautiful fingers.

“That’s good to know. You always give me mixed signals.” He says.

“What?” I frown.

“For a second I think you’re having a good time and the next second you’re mad at me.” He says.

 “That’s because I never know what you’re trying to imply through your actions.” I reply. We don’t know each other very well, and yet we’re both in some kind of complicated relationship.

“That’s a fiftyshadism.” He says, and I laugh. As if he could read my thoughts.

“You know the comics A Nickname for Your Pets?” I ask curiously, remembering how he reacted when I mentioned it during our first big discussion. He hums affirmatively.

“My father would give me one of them after each of my soccer games.” He precises.

“You play soccer?” I look up at him, and he gazes down at me, his eyes soft. “Played, when I was younger.” He kisses my forehead, and I look back at the TV. I imagine seven-year-old Tuan in his soccer outfit, and the picture is too cute to handle, but then I imagine him grown up like today in shorts and studs, and I flush.

“Soccer players are hot.” I murmur.

“Cheerleaders are sexy.” He whispers into my ear, and his voice is so sexy that I have to fight back a moan.

“Do you think I’m sexy?” I turn to him, and he looks at me intently. “You are the most desirable creature on earth, Abby.” He says seriously before kissing me.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” I reply, and he grins.

“Well, thank you Abigail.” He chuckles, and I give him my back again. He nuzzles my neck, his nose tracing the curve of my nape, and the he starts kissing me here and there. I can’t believe I’m having this kind of relationship with my math teacher, but what’s more unbelievable is that it feels incredibly right.

I remember he told me he had this kind of relationship too, maybe that’s why he is so cool about it, and doesn’t find it inappropriate.

“You said you fell in love with your math teacher.” I say, and he pulls his lips off my skin. I open my eyes, and realize I had closed them.

“Yes.” He says.

 “Is it still the case?” I don’t know why I’m asking that.

“No.” He replies dryly.

“How do you know?”

“I’ve had girlfriends after her.”

“Older girls?” I ask cautiously. Maybe he likes older girls, like Christian only likes brunettes, but then Anastasia’s a brunette too. Mark keeps silent for a moment.

"Yes." He replies. So he likes older girls.

“Why did she have that other girls didn’t?” I ask.

“I was too young and immature for girls in high school and Mrs. Cooper, she was so young in her head, so mischievous and funny.” He says. An older woman, who influenced the person he is now, just like in the book. “A little bit like a Mrs. Robinson.” I retort bitterly.

“No, Abby. Mrs. Cooper and I never went that far, nothing happened between us and I don’t feel anything for her anymore. It really is nothing like Christian and Mrs. Robinson’s relationship.” I run my fingernails up and down his palm, why does it bother me so much?

He’s right, at least she hasn’t beaten the shit out of him and fucked him up when he was fifteen. He shakes me out of my thoughts.

“Are you jealous, baby?” He sounds proud of himself, and as much as I want to sass back, my flush betrays me. He just called me baby, and I want to squirm. My subconscious hugs herself.

“You’re calling me baby now.”

“I’ve been dying to call you baby ever since you’ve told that waitress you were my girlfriend.” He murmurs and I frown.

“Why?”

“Because the idea wasn’t that unpleasant.” I freeze, stopping playing with his fingers and glancing around the room. The idea of dating me not that unpleasant? I don’t know what to do. There is an innuendo in his words. Is he asking me out? Maybe he isn’t. What do I do? What do I say?

 “If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” He adds quickly, and I glance up at him. He seems detached from the subject, but his eyes betray a light of fear. And I feel like we’re talking about something deeper than a nickname. The thought of stopping everything is appalling.

“No, it’s okay, I like it.” I reply, and he smiles down at me. He kisses me on the lips slowly, tenderly, using his free hand to caress my cheek with his thumb. All of the unspoken gets crystal clear, and it’s more than signing a contract. He’s embracing me, as I give myself to him. His tongue flicks against mine, and shit, I think I’m dating my math teacher.


	9. Chapter 9

I'm all dolled up, my hair is straight and full, tied up in a high ponytail with a red bow tie. I'm nervous, we are at the competition, and I don't feel ready, but then I'm never ready. The tension is palpable, we're all quiet, I've thrown up at least three times, I can't stay still, we're all jumpy, restless, anxious. I try to tell myself we won't win anyway, because it's our first competition, but then I don't want to mess up. I don't want to disappoint my team, we've all worked so much for this.

I tried to tell myself I could do this, but then I saw Peachtree Ridge's routine, and I am not so sure anymore. “Alright guys, circle up!" Barnes calls, tight blue dress and killer heels. We all obey, and Mark gives me a small smile of encouragement, looking as sexy as ever in a blue shirt and black pants. I squeeze Bea and Melanie's hand as we stand in a circle.

"So, this is it. We are here now, we've fought for this, we worked our asses off for this, okay? Just do what you enjoy to do, show them your passion, show them how bad you want it. Have fun, and do what you do best, okay?" She says, looking at each of us in turns. Oh, Barnes. I don't want to disappoint her either, she's so underrated as a coach, and yet she works her ass off for us. She stretches her hand out for our cheer, and we all follow in union.

"Bullets on three. One, two, three"

"Bullets!" We cheer and clap before heading backstage. When we're here we are circle up and focus for a prayer.

"Dear father thank you for bringing us here today. Please, bless every single member of this team to prevent them from being hurt. We thank you for taking us to today and ask you to give us the strength for this routine. Please bless this mat that will support our strides. In Jesus's name we pray, Amen.”

The others follow with an 'amen' and I open my eyes. Henry comes between me and Bea and throws his arms around our shoulders. After another cheer and an eternity of waiting, the host finally announces us. We all run to the center of the mat stage, and the gymnasium is full. People clap, and we wave hello, making sure not to take more than the thirty seconds we have to get into position. I take place next to Bea as the cheers fade away, and suddenly, the only thing I can hear is the beating of my heart.

"Peddington High school, you may begin." The host says, and we've reached the point of no return. I take a deep breath.

-

We all take place on the mat stage, we're ten, maybe fifteen teams all sat down on the ground in circles, stains of colors on the blue font. The host starts to announce the winners who will go home with the small "thank you for coming" trophies. My heart stops every time he calls a team, and it starts racing and pounding again as I realize we haven't been called. After the host is done we're only three team left, and Bea squeezes my hand. We're in the top three! I beam at all my teammates and they all giggle and beam at the thought. We all hold hands and lean towards the center of the circle as we wait for the third place to be announced. The time seems to have stopped. All I can heart is the sound of my heart racing. My legs crossed, my head bent down, my hands squeezed, I wait, and wait.

"Reagan High school!" I gasp for air. We're at least second, if not first. The thought is relieving, I'm am shaking. The team takes its trophy, snap a picture and leave. And the painful suspense starts again. The whole gymnasium is silent, everyone is holding their breaths, I close my eyes.

"Peachtree Ridge High school!" The host screams and the crowd roars for them. The orange and black team gets up, cheers, jumps, hug each other, they look truly happy with their second place. The thought slowly sinks into me as the cheers get louder and louder, as Bea and Johana squeeze my hands, as Melanie starts to cry. We won. We are the first place. Peachtree Ridge High school’s team receive their trophy and takes forever to leave, but then the blue mat stage gets empty, and the crowd seems to calm down a little bit.

"Please, join me and congratulate, your national champions," I squeeze Bea's hand in return and stomp my feet on the ground. We won, it's us, we are the champions.

"Peddington High school!" The host announces and the crowd, the team, my body roars. We all shoot up and scream out of joy. I let go of Johana's hand and hug Bea tightly. She's crying and so am I, since when, I don't know. I'm giddy with joy and relief. The team has gone crazy, we are jumping around, confetti are falling down on us, we are a crying, screaming, jumping mess. I let go of Bea and reach for Andrew while Melanie takes Bea in her arms, and I'm up for a hugging spree. My team, this is my team.

Coach Barnes appears out of nowhere and I'm so happy she took us to the top, that I forget about everything and hug her thank you, probably crossing a line.

"Thank you, Abigail. You were amazing, I am proud of you all. Thank you." She says in my ear and I can tell she's crying too. So, coach Barnes does have feelings. I let go of her and she wipes m tears affectionately, I beam at her.

"Congratulations, guys!" Mark beams from behind Barnes and hugs the boys first. He then hugs Maya with one arm, then Melanie, Annabelle, Sarah, and I feel a small pinch at my heart. He then walks to me and smiles widely as I beam. Before I know it I'm in his arms, both of his arms, he's warm.

"You're the best, this is your victory, baby." He says it my ear before pulling away. I have to fight back the urge to kiss him.

"Thank you." I reply and in a blink of eye he's gone continuing his hugging spree. Bea jumps in my arms.

"We won!" She cheers and I scream nonsense in response. Kyle comes up at me with the golden trophy.

"Here!" He screams over the noise and hands me the trophy. I take it eagerly, it's heavy, and big, golden, luxurious, victorious.

"Abby! Abby! Abby!" Kyle starts to cheer and as one the team follows, my not so hated anymore nickname echoing over the claps and whistles. I beam at them. We all circle up and I drop the trophy in the center, I'm up for a cheer. I take place next to Bea and stretch my arm out before everyone joins me.

 

"Okay, things go down on three, one two, three BULLETS!"


	10. Chapter 10

Mark and I have been dating for two months now. We see each other after class and during my private tutoring, we've also been on dates and I've already been in his apartment, which is kind of pretty for a teacher. Today is Saturday morning, and as I do my German homework on my bed, my phone starts vibrating, it's Mark. I can't help a small smile as I take his call.

"Hey." I purr, eager to hear his voice. "Hi, baby." He sounds young and happy.  "Why are you disturbing me?" I ask, rolling onto my back.

"I'd like you to grant me a moment in your company." He says. Another date with him. The memories of our last date comes back to me. I remember scowling at him the whole time because he wouldn't stop working.

"No copies to correct?" I tease, and I can hear his grin.

"No copies to correct. We could go to the movies?" He proposes. Oh, yes! There is a movie I wanted to see.

"Divergent two?" I ask, and I can sense his eyes rolling.

"Divergent two." He sighs, giving in.

"Okay, then." I reply.

"Cool. You know, I have my who weekend free, maybe you could spend the night?" I roll back onto my belly. He wants me to spend the night?

"Do you mean, like, with you?" I ask cautiously.

"Yes, with me." He replies. Spending the night with him, the thought is arousing. I feel like there could be an innuendo in his proposition.

"Does it mean we'll... you know..." I tease. Now I'm not ashamed anymore, Mark makes me horny, all the time. And I am ready for him, ready to have sex.

"You know what I'm going to say." He replies, and there it is, that small pinch of disappointment. Mark has been insisting on being on top of me if we do it, and it's the only thing that had been blocking us.

"Fine, I'm waiting for you." I sigh.

"Alright, I'll be there in an hour." He says.

"Hurry up." I reply before hanging up. To take less risks, Mark always picks me up on Goshen Avenue, and he parks his car in front of the library.

"Hi." I sing, getting on the passenger seat of his luxurious Mini Cooper. Mark smiles at me, all V neck and blue jeans. He doesn't greet me back and reaches out to me, taking my head between his hands and kissing me. His lips never leaving mine, he pulls me closer and closer, claiming my mouth as his, and I move to the driver’s seat, straddling his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I missed you." He says against my lips, and my mouth twists.  
"I missed you too." I murmur.  
"I bought my swim suit, we can go to the beach on Sunday." I say.  
"To the beach?" He arches his brow, and my face falls.

"You don't want to?" I ask quietly. He steadies his hand on my thigh and caresses me with his thumb comfortingly. "It's not that, baby. Someone from the high school could see us." He says.

"You're right." I say, and he kisses my lips. "We'll fill up my bathtub, and I'll buy a rubber duck." He proposes, making me giggle. I kiss him again. "Do you want to go eat somewhere?" He asks once I've pulled away. I look down at his white V Neck T shirt, his muscles straining against the material. This won't do, I'll have this man naked. I shake my head.

"I want to go to your place."

-

After some unsuccessful attempts to have my way with Mark, after I changed into comfortable shorts and a T shirt of him, him and I lay on his couch, talking about all and nothing, and things leading to another, we start making out.

"God- baby, stop." He groans, his voice faint. He tightens his grip around my hips, and I relucently pull away from him, breathless and dizzy. "Shit." He closes his eyes. I can feel his erection against my groin, he wants me, he needs me. I can't take being left hanging, the sensation is too strong.

"I want you." I whisper against his lips, and he opens his eyes, and they are hard. "But you don't want me to make love to you." He replies. Why is it so important for him? He doesn't seem to understand how I feel. "Please, just- I want you so bad." I whimper.

"Not like this." He breathes. The sensation is too strong it tingles, it almost stings, I'm aching for him.  
"Mark, It hurts." My words sink into him, and his eyes search into mine.

"Come." He says, getting off the couch. I follow him in his bedroom. He stops by his bed, and turns to me. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me. "I know I said I would wait until you're ready for me, but then you're probably not used to feel like this." He says, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. Is he going to do something about it?

"What are you going to do?" I ask, looking up at him through long lashes. I hope he's not thinking about getting on top of me.

"Just trust me, baby." He whispers, and his lips are on mine again, as hungry as before, rough and fast. As he kisses me, he slides one of his hands under my shirt, feeling the skin of my stomach, hitching it up a little bit. His other hand joins soon, sliding up my stomach, up my sides.

"Lift your arms." He commands, and I obey. He takes my shirt off, revealing my red laced bra. I've started to buy more grown up underwear for him, in case such things happened. He sits on his bed, setting me between his legs. He hooks his fingers around the waistline of my cotton shorts and slowly pulls them down my legs, his eyes following the same path until my shorts are pooling at my feet.

He kisses my thigh repeatedly, his lips tracing a tortuous path to the place where my lace panties start, I shudder. His lips feel good on my skin, here, on my body. He looks up at me, asking me if he can go on. I'm almost naked in front of this older man, probably the same age as the one who raped me, but yet all of this feels right, for a reason that fails me. I nod. He closes his eyes, and continues kissing me as if I was the sweetest desert on earth, just above the waistline of my underwear, across my stomach. It sends tingles throughout my whole body. Mark sits further on the bed, his back resting on the headstand.

"Come." He commands. He watches me as I climb on his bed, crawling my way to him. He sits me on his lap, my legs on each sides of his. He pulls me close and kisses me hard, fierce and hungry, his hands roaming over me, his hands on my backside, fondling me, palming me, possessing me. His mouth moves to my jaw, my ear, down my neck, his lips brushing against my necklace, and his hands travel up my stomach.

He cups my breasts and gives them a firm squeeze, and I sigh in pleasure. This encouraging sound of mine makes him go further, and he slides his hands under the material of my bra, feeling the bare skin of my breasts, brushing against my nipples, and they harden under his touch. I have to refrain a moan. Woah, I'm sensitive there.

"Relax." He breathes against my skin. I throw my head back as he continues torturing me, caressing me, kissing me, fueling my hunger.

  
"I'm going to take this off, baby." He whispers into my ear, the vibrations of his voice traveling straight to my core as he takes the strap of my bra. He slides the traps off my shoulder, kissing them in turns. Then, he reaches behind me and undoes my bra, and I feel a small pinch of panic at my heart. He takes my bra off, exposing me, and suddenly I don't want to be here anymore.

Me, an 18-year-old girl with C cup breasts, half naked in front of the incarnation of sex. He eyes my breasts, his expression unreadable, and I feel a hot blush heating my face.

"I love your body, Abigail." He kisses my lips again, blowing my worries away with each stroke of his tongue against mine. He takes my breasts in his hands, massaging them, finding them, and he teases, twists and caresses my nipples, and they erect and elongate. His hand slides down my stomach, and he cups my sex. I gasp and pull away from him instantly. What is he doing? Why is he touching me there?

 "Mark." I breath, grabbing his hand but not putting it away.

"Shhhhh." He breathes, smoothing me. "Let me do." He whispers. He asked me to trust him, and I accepted, I have to show I can trust him. I've always thought it was my right to be closed up, but when it comes to him, I want to break all those walls I've built. I let his hand go, and he starts rubbing my sex slowly, his fingers pressed against my clit, sending tingles in the depths of my body. He slides his hand inside my panties, his skin meeting my warmth, and he parts my lips with his middle finger.

"You're so wet, baby. So turned on." His words travel straight to my core. I'm so ashamed to be like this, blushing and whimpering as Mark runs my clit in circles, his other hand working on my breast. I bite down on my lip to keep me quiet.

"It's for your pleasure, baby. It's okay to like it." Mark whispers into my ear, nibbling at my earlobe. He applies more pressure on me, gently biting down on my earlobe. "Anh!" I cry out before I can stop myself. As ashamed as I am, he's doing me good, so good.

 "That's right, baby. Let me know you like it." He says appreciatively.

"Ah! Ah! Mark!" I start to quicken, moaning louder and louder as he picks up pace with his fingers, pushing me closer and closer to the edge, torturing me but at the same time feeding my carving.

"You're close baby, I can feel it. Don't hold it back." He whispers. Ah! I feel it, there, I'm going to come. I can't come like this, it's not right. How can I like this? How can I let him do this to me?

"Let go." He commands. My hips start to move on their own, grinding onto his skilled fingers in a needy motion.

"No!"

"Come for me, Abby." He growls through gritted teeth, pushing a finger inside of me, and it's the key to my undoing. I surrender myself in front of the overwhelming pleasure, and my body takes over. I come and come, my body savoring the taste of ecstasy.

I lay over Mark's chest, catching my breath on top of him. Damn, it was tiring.

"Did I fulfill your request?" Mark asks quietly, kissing my hair.

  
"You obviously did, Mark." I pant, and I can heat his smile. I look up at him, and he gazes down at me with loving eyes.

"Your first orgasm belongs to me." He grins, brushing my hair out of my face.

"It wasn't my first." I murmur.

"Oh, really? Then I'll need a name, and an address." He replies, and I giggle.

 "I've had these dreams about you." I confess, and he arches his brow.

"Wet dreams? About me?" He says, bemused.

 "They made me come in my sleep several times." I explain shyly.

"And what happened in those dreams?" The light in his eyes suddenly changes, getting darker.

"I'll tell you one day." I tease, and he grins. "Are you hungry?" Mark asks.  
"I'm famished."

"I'll go cook something." He says. I move to let him get out of bed, and as he shifts under me, I feel the bulge in his pants. Oh.

"Mark..." I call out before he walks out, crossing my arms over my chest to hide my nudity.

 "Yes?" He says, turning to me.

"You didn't come." I mumble. 

 "Don't worry about it, Abby." He says.

 "How do you want me not to care about it? I want you to feel good." I argue. I know he wants me, and I know it's because of him we can't have sex, but then I want us to be on the same page. "I feel like I'm not returning the favor." I say sadly.

 "That's not how I feel, baby." He says, sitting next to me. He picks up my shirt on the floor, and puts in over my head. "I don't mind." He says. Well, his erection clearly says the contrary. I pass my arms in the holes and rolls the shirt down to cover myself.

  
"For now." I mumble. He takes my chin in his hand and makes me look up at him.

"Abby, don't overthink this, okay?" He says. Oh here's that advice again. I try to empty my mind, and when I do, I kiss him. I force my tongue inside his mouth, and it's not long before he replies to my kiss, even hungrier and aggressive. His pleasure, that's the only thing on my mind. I want to make him feel good. I take his T-shirt off, and admire his sharp muscles. I'm almost licking my lips, like a cheetah in front of its prey.

"What are you doing?" He pants, looking up at me.

"I'm doing what you said." I reply before kissing him again, my fingers curling in his hair. I move do his jawline, his neck, his earlobe, and he shudders beneath me. That's right... My subconscious hums appreciatively. I kiss his collar bones, travelling down his chest. I kiss the skin of his pecks, his sternum, my lips tracing a dangerous path to his south. My hands ghost over his pants, and I unbutton it, he stiffens beneath me.

"You don't have to do this, Abby. I-"

"Shhh." I kiss the corner of his mouth, and I feel him relax.

"Let me do." I whisper, my words mirroring his. He smirks at me, and I bite down on my lip. I unzip his pants and, locking my eyes with him, I slide them down to his knees. His chest rises and fall as I kiss him just above the waistline of his boxers. I close my eyes, savoring the taste of his skin. I hook my fingers in his boxers, and I am as frantic and excited as on a Christmas morning. I slowly pull them down, and he springs free, stiff and proud. I look up at him through long lashes, and his face is painted with a light blush, as if he was ashamed to be so aroused. I drop a soft kiss on his hipbone, my tongue flicking against his skin, and a groan escapes his mouth. That was a very encouraging sound. I kiss his erection, my eyes locked on his, and he takes a sharp intake of air. I do have an effect on him, the thought is heady. I take him into my hand and wrap my lips around his tip, tasting him, tasting his arousal. He moans timidly as I suck gently on his tip. My tongue flicks against him, and he tenses beneath me.

"Yes." He hisses as I work on his tip. The sounds he makes make me bolder, braver. I take more of him in my embrace, slowly bobbing my head, my hair falling like a cloud around him.

«You’re doing good, baby. So good." He compliments, his voice almost failing him. He tastes so good. I feel like a goddess, possessing him, making him feel god.

"Abby..." He moans, his hands finding my head. My name comes out as please, and it makes me feel in control, and I love. He flexes his hips, thrusting inside my mouth, slowly, timidly, and I suck harder, he groans loudly.

"Abby, enough." He says, but he doesn't stop moving. "Ah..." He breathes, sounding weak, submissive even, and the sound gets me going. I'm going to make him come, he won't stop me. I double my efforts, and his thrust get a little franker.

"Abby, I'm gonna come." He whimpers, his voice getting higher, shakier, weaker. » Abby... Abby... Please... Baby...fuck..." He pleads, his thrusts getting faster. That's right, Mark. Beg me

."God- Abby, stop, enough." He growls, but his body savors my sweet torture. His thighs tense up and his abs flex, and I know he's close. His breathing quickens, his chest rising and falling.

"Abby, I'm gonna come." He warns, and I think he reached the point of no return. I brace myself mentally for what comes next.

"Shit, Abby!" He cries, loud and torturous, and he comes in my mouth wetly. It doesn't taste good at all, it's salty and sticky, but it's the taste of him, and I force myself to swallow, drinking his feeling for me. Mark lets me go, catching his breath, his eyes closed. I crawl up to him, dropping kisses on his chest as I go. He opens his eyes to meet mine.

 "You never cease to amaze me, baby." He says, pulling me to him. "We aim to please, Mr. Tuan." I reply.


	11. Chapter 11

  
"Abby, wake up." Mark whispers into my ear, gently shaking me. My eyelids are too heavy, and my body is still asleep.

 "Baby, wake up." He says. I turn my head away from his voice.

"No." I groan.

"Come on, get up." He says. I don't know which day it is, or who I am. I think if he's up then it would mean it's quite late in the morning, but then I feel too sleepy, it must be dawn.

"What time is it?" I ask, my eyes still closed.

 "Quarter to eight." What the fuck? My subconscious, puts a sleeping mask on.

"Why are you waking me up?" I ask.

 "I have a surprise for you. Get dressed, you don't have to shower." He says. A surprise? So soon in the morning? My eyes flutter open as I stretch.

"Come on." He kisses my cheek, and as I close my eyes again, I hear him leave. Eventually I get up and brush my teeth, but my mind is still blurry, and my eyes threaten to close themselves. I wander in the living room of his flat, and he is on his phone, drinking a cup of coffee. He sees me and smiles.

"Morning Abby is quite a show." He says, and I smile sleepily. I'm not that tired in the morning usually, I don't know what's happening to me. I sit on his lap, and he wraps his arms around me. I love sitting on his lap, he's so strong and muscular, I feel cherished when he randomly kisses my cheek as we talk.

 "I'm tired." I moan, burying my face in his neck. Hmmm... he smells good. "You'll sleep in the car." He replies.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"It's a secret." He says.

"Why do we have to be up so soon?"

"Because. Get dressed, now." He kisses my hair. Oh, bossy Tuan.

-

It's quarter to nine when Mark drives off to the unknown destination. I'm really excited to see where he's taking me too. It's still a little bit cold in the morning, but Mark Turned the air con on. Since I don't want to bother him, I take his hoodie and use it as a blanket. It smells like him, and it's warm.

"Can you, please, tell me where we're going?" I ask him for what seems to be the millionth time. He simply shakes his head, tired to repeat the same thing each time I ask him. I yawn in response.

"Sleep, now. You're tired." He says. He's right. I hum incoherently and before I know it, I'm drifting away.

We're still moving as I wake. The sun is shining bright and we're on the highway. I lift my arms and stretch, my eyes fluttering open.

"We're almost there." Mark says next to me. I glance at the clock, it's half past ten. I look out the window, and we speed by a sign. 

"San Diego?" I frown.

"Where are you taking me?" I look up at Mark, and he winks at me. I understand he's not going to tell me. He turns to the left, and after a moment, he parks near a beach. It's quite empty for a beach. I get out of his Mini Cooper and take a look at the landscape. Mark walks around the car and stands behind me, his arms wrapped around me.

 "You wanted to go to beach, there it is." He says into my ear. Holy shit! he drove all the way to San Diego just to take me to the beach?

"Mark!" I whirl around, wrapping my arms around his neck. He smiles down at me, proud and boyish.

 "You're the best, thank you." I beam at him. Oh, this man is so caring. I kiss him on the lips.

 "You're welcome." He replies. I let go of him and turn around. Am I dreaming?

 "I can't believe you did this." I say appreciatively as he wraps his arms around me.

"We aim to please, miss Kraige." He says, and I giggle. Suddenly, it occurs me.

"But I didn't bring my swim suit." I gasp in horror.  

"Your bag is in the car. I packed everything." He says.

 "You did?" I ask, and he winks playfully. 

"I have towels, sun cream, and I packed lunch." He says. He's so thoughtful.

We quickly change so we can go in the water. I'm wearing my white trikini and he has red swim trunks. His chest is bare, tantalizing. After a moment of bronzing, more people start to walk onto the beach, and we decide to bathe before there is no place in the water. I take slow steps into the cool water, feeling it on my feet, then I sink in, to my knees, and when I glance behind me, Mark is just entering the water, his eyes on him. He gives me a wicked smile and a light flashes in his eyes, I squeal. I try to run away, but running in the water isn't easy. I hear Mark taking big and rushed steps towards me, the water roar at each of his steps, and in spite of my desperate attempt to avid him, he reaches me and wraps his arms around me, making me laugh.

"I like your swimsuit." He purrs into my ear.

 I giggle and press myself against his chest, and he kisses my temple. I turn to him and kiss him, wrapping myself around him. I nibble at his bottom lips, and his tongue meet mine in a passionate dance. I devour his mouth, my fingers curling in his hair. He sucks on my bottom lip and runs his tongue across it, and my libido explode, I want him, now. I fist my hand and tug at his hair, tilting his head backwards, and I trail light kisses on his neck, and I feel him tense up under my touch.

"Stop. Not here." He breathes, tearing himself away from me, leaving me hanging. I sigh and connect our foreheads.

 "You have no idea what you do to me." I whisper. 

"I could say the same thing." He replies, and I look up at him. "I could show you." I tease. 

"By letting me show you how I feel about you." He replies, and I want to scowl at him. 

"Why can't you just let me be on top?" I ask.

  
"Because we're talking about your first time. I want you to show you trust me, and I want to show you how good love can feel."

"Love?" I tilt my head to the side. 

"My love. For you." He says. Is it a confession? The thought warms up my heart. I look in his tender eyes. 

"Say it." I curl my fingers in his wet hair.

  
"I love you." He breathes. His words travel straight to my heart. He loves me, and it make me happy. He's the only man whose attention is important for me, and more than attention I get love from him.

  
"Say it again." I breathe against his lips.

  
"I love you." He repeats. Oh, it’s so exhilarating.

  
"I love you too." I reply, and before I know it, his lips are on me. And as he kisses me, embraces me, loves me, a single tear rolls down my face.

-

Mark and I sit at the picnic area near the bitch, and I watch as he pulls one, two, three, five Tupperware boxes out of his bag.

"When did you plan all of this?" I ask. "During the night." He opens one Tupperware box, and there is a salad inside.

  
"You're crazy." I say, more to myself than to him. In another Tupperware, there are watermelon squares. Hmmm... that's perfect for the beach, he's so thoughtful.

 "Christian Grey would probably have rented the whole beach, I'm not a man of many resources." He says, pulling out a bottle of apple juice for me, and tap water for him. 

"This is much better." I reply. The watermelon is so red, it looks juicy.  

"Is it, now? Rich guys get all the girls." Mark says, giving me a fork and a knife. I reach out for the watermelon but he slaps my hand away.

"That's the desert." He scolds me playfully.

"Ana was first attracted to him because of his face and his money, clearly. I'm not like that. Not with you." I say. The salad looks good too. 

"You don't like my face?" He asks, opening his Tupperware boxes with the same content as mine.

 "I do, Mark, a lot. That's just not what attracted me first." I reply.

 "What attracted you?" He asks.

  
"The way you dealt with me. You just wouldn't stop calling me Abby, it was infuriating." I reply. Oh, cherry tomatoes! When I think that I couldn't bare someone calling me Abby for mouth ago, and that now a man gave me my firsts orgasm and makes me say I love him, the word 'progress' comes to my mind. 

"You've come such a long way." Mark says, his eyes admiring. 

"I'm proud of you." He adds, and I fight back a blush.

 "It's because of you, Mark. You changed me." I murmur. 

"I think you were already like this." He replies, and I snort.

  
"Constantly horny? I don't think so. It's definitely your fault." I say. Mark laughs loudly, running a hand through his hair unconsciously, making me want to kiss the life out of him, tugging at his hair myself. 

"You're horny?" He asks. 

"I'll be if you don't stop doing this." I breathe. 

"Doing what?" He asks. 

"Running your hand in your hair like this." I can feel a strong blush creeping on my cheeks. Marks smile fades a little, and his eyes light up with mischievousness. 

"You find it hot?" He smirks, his hot stare making me uncomfortable. I'm almost squirming. 

"Yes." I blush, and he gives me a wicked smile. He knows what he's doing to me. We can't do this now, I change subjects.

 

"How long have you been living in your apart?" I ask. Mark leans back in his chair, smiling smugly, bemused by my poor attempt to hide my embarrassment. Yet, he plays along.

 "Five months, why?" He asks.

  
"It's pretty big." I reply. His apartment has three room, and he uses one as a study, his has a huge living room with an open kitchen, one bathroom in his bedroom and another one near the guestroom. 

"I saved some money." He says. 

"You bought it?" My mouth is full of salad, and he snorts.

 "My parents helped me a lot, my unused college founds also helped." He says. 

"Unused college founds?" I ask. 

"I got a scholarship, I didn't pay for anything." He explains. Oh, I had almost forgot, my boyfriend is genius. I nod silently. 

"I'm a clean person." He says. I didn't accuse him of anything, I know he's not into illegal business, he almost screamed at me for not correctly walking on the zebra crossing marks.

  
"With dirty thoughts." I tease, and he smirks. We sit there, looking at each other for a moment. Me, leaning towards him, and him leaning towards me, his chin resting on his hand and his head tilted to the side. He looks like teenager, so young and carefree. 

"You have beautiful eyes, Abby. Have I told you that already?" Mark says quietly. 

"A couple of times, yes." I reply. Silence takes place between us again. Mark reaches out and brush my hair out of my face, his knuckles tracing a line down my temple, past my jaw and down my neck. His eyes leave mine and he looks down, his gaze changing, turning more melancholic.  
  
"What?" I ask, and he looks back at me.

 "I've never seen your scars." He says, his thumb caressing the material of my choker, threatening to hitch it down at any moment.

 "Mr. Tuan, you sure know how to choose your moments." I lean back, away from his touch.

 "You never choose one." He replies. Why does he have to bring this up now? We were having a fucking good day. 

"You're ruining the moment; you realize that?" I mumble angrily, getting up from my seat. Mark leans back and watches as I stomp away from him.

-

I stand on a dune that watches over the beach near the picnicking area. There is no wind, there are no waves, but the water is loud and animated by the thousands of people playing and swimming. I'm glad we came sooner. Mark comes up to me, standing behind me and he wraps his arms around me. I don't want to get mad at him, after what he's done for me, I should make an effort. Mark kisses my cheek.

  
"You're the most frustrating girl I've ever met, Abby." He says into my ear, his voice soft.

"Why does it sound like a compliment?" I arch my brow.

"Because I like it." He replies. He like me making him mad?

"You do?" I ask.

"To some degree." He kisses my hair. I don't really want to test his limits.

"Have you been here before?" I ask, and he hums negatively.

"Not even with Mrs. Cooper?" I turn my head to him.

"Why do you say that?" He says dryly, his brow furrowed, his face impassive. I roll my eyes and look back in front of me.

"It's a joke, Mark." I inform him.

"It wasn't very funny." He says.

"That's because you have no humor." I reply.

"No humor, eh?" He nudges me. 

"Who almost made you pee in your pants yesterday?" He asks, and yesterday night's memories come back to me. I see him telling me all kind of stories, from the one with the pumpkin to the one where he ended up naked in his neighbor's house. I can't help a giggle.

"You miss my impersonation of De Nero?" He asks, making me crack up. Oh, that was the best.

"No, no, please." I reply, my laugh fading away.

"I love to hear your laugh." Mark says after a moment of silence. I sigh inwardly. This man is my only weakness. It's hard to refuse him further access to myself. I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"I love you, Mark. I just need time." I murmur, my eyes pleading.

"Okay. I love you too." He says, and his lips are on mine, kissing me tenderly, his fingers curling into my hair.

 "Come. It's time to go." He says, taking my hand in his. As we walk back to his car, today's event come back to me like a movie. I've spent one of the most amazing day of my life. We took awesome pictures, but then I realize I have no one to share them with.

"What are you thinking about?" Mark asks, tearing me away from my reverie. How does he know I'm thinking? 

"I want to tell Bea." I reply. I think I'm saying this for the hundredth time, and his answer is always the same, but it gets harder for me to lie to her.

 "Abby..." He whines in his usual disapproving tone. 

"I know her; she won't tell anyone." I add, he shakes his head.

  
"You don't know that."

  
"Yes, I do. She's my best friend, she's like a sister to me." I outdo, taking him by the feelings. 

"I understand what you feel, but you can't do that." He says. I give up the sweet talk card. Nothing works with him. Why am I crushed by the simple fact that he says no? What kind of authority does he have on me ?

  
"See, you're always controlling me." I say. 'Abby don't do this' 'Abby you can't do that', 'No, Abby.' Can't he let me take my own decisions?  

"And you know how mad I can get." He replies. Is that a threat? I've seen a glimpse of mad Tuan one time, only one time, and I don't ever want to see it again, god it was chilling. 

"I can get mad too." I murmur.

 "That would be quite a show actually." He replies. Does he not care about me getting mad? It's always about what he doesn't want me to do, but he doesn't care about being the one who makes me mad.

  
"Now you're making fun of me." I let his hand go, and he pulls me by the waist.

 "No, I'm not." He says. We reach his car, and as I make a move to climb in and giving him the silent treatment, he kisses my lips, taking my face in his hands. Hmmm... his lips are delicious. He pulls away, and I bite my lip to prevent myself from giving in.

 "Listen, let's just wait a little bit, okay?" He tilts his head to the side cutely; but it doesn't work. 

"She'll get mad at me." I say quietly, and he frowns.

  
"Why would she?" He asks.

 "Because I've been lying to her for months." I explain. From the moment Mark caught my eye, to his proposition, to Dallas, to why I stay with him after class, to what I did this weekend, I've been hiding all of this from her. The later I'll tell her, the bigger will be her anger. Mark seems to realize I'm right and lets my face go, sighing loudly.

 "Please, Mark." I murmur, and he purses his lips. 

"Fine." He finally says. Thank god! 

"Thank you." I kiss him tenderly.

"Today was awesome. You sure know how to show a girl a good time." I purr, gently combing his hair. God, I love this man, and he loves me too. "We aim to please, miss Kraige." He boops my nose and I crinkle it, making him smile.

"That you do, Mr. Tuan, in many ways."

 


	12. Chapter 12

Today is Saturday night, and me, Bea and Aurianne are out for the night. Me and Bea told our parents we were spending the night at Aurianne's because her parents are super cool about going out, but actually we are going to the Zeed, the favorite club of the students of LA, because they don't recognize fake ID's. I used the thirty dollars I earned when I babysat aunty Charlene's monsters to pay for my fake ID. According to it I am 22, old enough to enter the club and drink. Four months ago, the thought of going to a club wouldn't even have crossed my mind, and I have to thank Mark for giving me back the taste of life. I'm wearing a sleeveless dress with a black bustier and a coral tight skirt and black high heels I had never worn before. I think my outfit is sexy enough for me to feel beautiful but not enough to attract boys. This is a girl night out, we all agreed to have fun with each other only, just the three of us, no boys. The music is loud in the club, and they're playing Afrojack's song, The Spark. Bea is being indecent on the dance floor, moving down low and wiggling against me, she makes me laugh as I try to follow her energetic rhythm.

"Oh my god!" Bea exclaims! Turning me around and pointing at a direction. I follow her finger and I see Mark, white shirt and vest, his elbows on the bar as he laughs freely, having fun with friends of his. Holy shit!

 "What is he doing here?" I say, more to myself than to them. He didn't tell me he was going to a club, that bastard! I didn't tell him I was going out either, if he sees me, he's going to snap big time.

"He looks hot." Bea says, and my heart sinks a little.

"Let's get closer." Aurianne says, her excitement clear in her voice. Bea squeals and I jump. Panic grips at my heart. I can't let him see me; he's going to kill me. A guy says something in Mark's ear, and he laughs. His eyes land in our direction, and I jump again. My first reflex is to walk away, or should I say to run away. Did he see me? I don't know, and I hope he didn't. I have to get out of this club.

 "What the fuck!" A black man, in his early twenties, lose tank top and jeans exclaims, letting his drink fall onto the floor, his glass breaking in pieces?

"I'm sorry." I mumble. He curses at the ground, then he looks up at me, glaring, but then his eyes soften and light up with something else.

"You look hot." He purrs. Ew. I make move to leave.

"Hey, princess. Where do you think you're going? You just spilled my drink, you have to pay me back." He says, a primitive light flashing in his eyes. I don't really pay attention; all I want is getting out of here before Mark sees me.

"No." I reply, walking off. "Come back here. I just want to dance." The midget says into my ear, catching up with me. "I have to go, I'm sorry." I reply absent-mindedly, desperately trying to reach the exit. Suddenly, he grabs my arm, and I jump.

 "Don't touch me!" I try to yank my arm away put he pulls me to him, and I collide with his chest. He smells like alcohol; he stinks.

"I think she said no!" Mark yells, propelling the guy away with a strong push. The guy stumbles back and collides with the bar. Thank god he's here! I know I wanted to avoid him seeing me, but I can't be happier to see him right now.

"Chill out, man." The midget says, losing all his wingspan in front of Mark who glares at him, his eyes burning with anger. The midget holds his hands in the air in defeat, and disappears in the crowd of dancers. Mark turns to me, and he's fuming with anger; I take a step back.

"Come." He growls, grabbing my arm and leading me out of the club. Oh god, he's really mad. I follow him the best I can away from the loud music, and then we're finally out. The air is fresher outside, I was suffocating. Mark paces to the corner of the street, away from any indiscreet eyes.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"He snarls, and I'm in trouble, he's going to snap big time, I don't need this, my head is dizzy. His anger is too overwhelming; I take a step back. "Abigail." He calls angrily. My stomach groans and I have the time to turn around before it twist and I vomit spectacularly on the ground. Mark curses and pulls my hair back as I vomit again.

"Take this." He hands me a checkered handkerchief and I thankfully take it. My head starts to pound and I feel even sicker, I feel even more dizzy. I lean against the brick wall and close my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I hear Mark ask, his voice softer, and I shake my head.

"Come." He says. "I'm staying at Bea's." I can't find the strength to move.

"I don't care; I'm taking you to my apartment." He takes my hand and forces me to walk. I struggle to keep up with him, my legs feeling like jelly.

 "What do I say to the Bea?" I ask.

 "Tell her you're with me. I thought you told her." He says without turning back. Suddenly my head starts to spin.

"No." I breathe, my voice barely audible.

"What?" He asks, briefly turning around.

"Wait." I tug at his hand, and he stops pacing, letting me lean against a random car while I get a grip of myself. I close my eyes and steady my breathing, and when I open them, Mark is watching me.

"Bea likes you."

"What?" He asks, incredulous.

 "She told me before I could tell her about us." I explain.

 "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks, and I shrug.

"I was trying to look for a solution." I reply. He runs both of his hands in his hair as he turns around, looking for a solution.

"Tell her you're with me because you passed out and I found you." He says before taking my hand again and leading me to his car. He opens the passenger door of his Mini Cooper.

"Mind your head." He says as I get in. He closes my door, walks around the car and takes place in the driver's seat next to me. He pulls out his phone and calls someone.

 "Hey, I'm taking Abigail home... looks like it... I don't even know... Alright, tell Jackson I'm sorry, have fun." He says before hanging up. I realize I ruined his night with his friend, and I feel guilty, even if he didn't reproach me for it explicitly. Without a word, he starts the engine and drives off. His eyes glued on the road, he doesn't address me a single word.

"Are you not talking to me?" I ask quietly.

"I don't want to get mad at you when you're drunk." He replies without looking at me.

"Then don't." I murmur quietly, a timid attempt to soften his mood that fails as he glares at me.

"We'll speak tomorrow." He says.

  
"So we're not talking until tomorrow?" I ask quietly. He sighs loudly, showing me his exasperation, and I decide to keep quiet. Jeez, another episode of mad Tuan, and it's thirty times worse than the last one.

In the car I type a text to Bea, telling her I'm with Mark. She says I'm lucky and that I'll have to make a report to her. We arrive at his apartment in the same silence as in the car, with just the sound of my heels as Mark leads me to his bedroom. Once we're in I drop my clutch on his chest of drawers, and he takes a T-shirt of his out of his dressing. Then he comes to me and, crouching down, he takes my shoes off. Oh, sweet deliverance. He gets back up and hooks his fingers inside the top of my dress, on my sides right under my armpits, and he peels my dress off. Panic grips at my heart; I don't have a bra on. I don't feel comfortable being so exposed in front of him. He crouches down and slides the piece of material down my legs, and I immediately cover myself, crossing my arms over my chest. Mark gets back up and his brow cease as he sees me. He eyes me for a moment, confused.

"Can I have your T-shirt, please?" I ask, unable to endure his staring. I look down.

"You don't have to be ashamed of being naked-" He says, and his words sound way too familiar and ineffective to me. "I know, but I am. Please, let me cover myself." I cut him off, looking anywhere but at him. I hear him sigh, and hi takes my chin in his hand, tilting my head up and forcing me to meet his hard arms.

"Put your arms down." He commands. Does he really want to have a sex therapy right now? One minute ago I would have done anything to make him less angry but now I'm tired and I just want to go to bed and hope he'll be less annoyed tomorrow.

"Put your arms down, Abby." He repeats. Jeez, if it can make you less mad. I oblige, my eyes never leaving his as I let my arms fall down to my sides. He looks down at my body, and I have to fight the urge of covering myself. 

"You are so beautiful, Abby, so desirable." He murmurs, his fingers tracing a line from the dip base of my neck, down between my collar bones, and I look down as his index slides down between my breasts, stopping just above my belly button. The same finger comes up and tilts my chin up, and when my eyes meet his, he's watching me intently, his eyes burning. His finger still under my chin, he crashes his mouth onto mine. Our teeth collide but then his tongue invades my mouth, and my libido explodes. I run my hands in his hair, my fingers curling into his mane as I reply to his hungry kiss.

"You are gorgeous, Abby. See what you do to me." He growls, pinning me against the nearest wall. He takes my hands and pins them above my head, his lips closing themselves onto mine. 

He holds me still, his hips pinning me down, his erection straining against my thigh. He's stiff and hard, and gosh, this man wants me. He lets me go, and my eyes land on the tent in his pants. I realize how sexy he looks in his white shirt, with the two top buttons undone, his black pants and his black vest. I drop onto my knees, the same yen of making him feel good of last weekend creeping onto me. Last week's memories come back into my mind like a sweet perfume, and I can almost taste him again. I remember how he tasted, the bitter sweet taste of his desire. I lean in and kiss him through is pants, and he stiffens.

"No." He groans, stepping away from me. He sinks onto his knees, coming down to my level.

"Not tonight, I'm still fucking pissed." He says before throwing the shirt on my body. There it is, that small pinch of disappointment in my heart. I put my arms in the holes and roll the shirt down, covering myself, and he sets me on my feet.

"Do you have a hair tie?" He asks.

"In my clutch." I reply, nodding towards the drawers under the window and he turns around. When he finds it he faces me, ruffling through it, he stops as he finds something inside, eyeing it for what seems like eternity before pulling it out of my clutch. He shows me my fake ID card, his expression hard and serious. Crap crappy crap. All I can do is squirm as he lectures me with his eyes. Jeez, he has the power of making me feel guilty with one single look. He shakes his head and pulls out a black hair tie from my clutch.

"Go to pee." He orders, handing me the black hair tie. What? How rude is that? I obey, walking in the bathroom. I take a private moment, pissing the alcohol away, and wash my face off. I take a look at myself in the mirror, oh boy I'm wasted. I tie my disheveled hair in a high bun. When I walk out of the bathroom Mark is just coming in, changed in sweatpants and a grey T-shirt, with a glass of water and and two Advils in his hands.

"Take this." He says, and I take the glass and the pills. I gulp them down in a second, gosh I was thirsty. He takes the glass from my hand and points at the bed.

"Bed." He orders, serious and authoritative. I makes a move to leave, and I assume he's going to put the glass in the sink.

"Sleep." He says, turning off.

"Where are you going?" I ask, frozen.

"I have copies to correct, go to sleep." He says. He's not going to sleep at the same as me? This is the hardest punishment, worse that the silent treatment.

"I'm sorry I went out without telling you, please don't be so cold. Come to bed with me." I murmur, and he stops in his tracks, turning around. He sighs loudly.

"I'm coming." He says before leaving. I take place in his bed, and it's big and cold. How did he expect me to fall asleep in this empty bed? I've slept with him once, and I think I'm addicted. He comes back a minute later, closes the door of his room, gets rid of his T-shirt on his way to the bed. He climbs on the bed next to me, and I snuggle his chest.

He turns the light off, plunging the room in darkness. I trail small kisses along his neck, trying to soften his mood.

"Don't push it, Abigail. I'm still pissed." He says dryly. I hate mad Tuan, and I hate myself for being stupid.

"I know." I whisper before drifting in his arms.


	13. Chapter 13

The sudden emptiness of the bed wakes me up and I roll on my back, groaning. My head pounds hard, it's feels like someone is trying to press my brain like an orange. I glance up, and just like I sensed it, Mark is not here. I sit up, squinting my eyes as pain radiates throughout my head. Oh, what a headache. I glance around and there is a glass of apple juice and two Advils on the nightstand, and I guess they're for me. My phone is laying beside the glass, it’s charging and I guess Mark did it for me. I wonder where he is. I can’t he the sound of the TV, or any sign of him somewhere in the apartment. I reach out for my phone and check the time: 10:27 AM, three texts from Mark.

 

                                                       

 

I love that he still worries about me even when he's mad, it makes me feel cherished. But I still apprehend the confrontation, I really hope his run will calm him down. I slide out of his bed an tidies it just like he does, before going and brushing my teeth, with his toothbrush. Then I take the Advils he's left for me. I skimmer in the kitchen and result creamy hot chocolate, after looking for flour for twenty minutes in order to have some golden pancakes and failing. I lean against the counter and sip my sweet beverage. I really acted like an immature teenager this time. I was so wasted last night, I don't know what would have happened to me or the girls if- shit, the girls. I don't even know what happened to them. My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the door being opened. Mark appears, breathless and sweaty, in a black, tight, sport T-shirt, black sport shorts and fluorescent Nikes. He unplugs his earphones when he sees me. Hmm... sweaty Mark.

"Hi." I mutter, bringing my my cup to my lips.

"Hi. Slept well? " He replies, coming to my level. He doesn't seem as mad as yesterday, but he's still distant.

"Until you left." I reply, trying to be cute.

 "Did you take the Advils I left for you?" He deliberately ignores my attempt to be sweet, maybe he's not calmed down at all.

"Yes." I reply, dropping my cup of hot chocolate on the counter next to me. Mark leans towards me, his hands on either side of my body as he rests his weight on the counter.

"How do you feel?" He asks.

"Fine."

"Your head?"

"I'm okay."

"Good, now we can talk." He says. I take a sharp intake of breath. Okay, he did not calm down at all.

"Going to a club, with fake ID's, and getting drunk, when you're not even legal yet, without telling me. Do you know how irresponsible and dangerous this is? Abigail, what were you thinking?" He trails off, and I pull out my only argument, hoping it would make us even.

"You didn't tell me you were going to a club either." I reply.

 "I told you I was spending the night out with my friends, I did not lie to you, I forgot to precise where I was going, which you didn't ask. But I did ask you where you were going and you said you were spending the night at Beatrice's, you lied to me." He replies, completely destroying my defense. I look down at my knotted fingers in defeat.  

"I don't like you lying to me like this. And that guy who molested you, what would you have done if I wasn't there? Who would have helped you? Beatrice?" He says, and I sigh. He's right, he's always right, it's infuriating.

"I don't want anything to happen to you. You have to be more responsible, Abigail." He says. He's always using my full name when he scolds me, it makes me feel like a kid, that's what my mom used to do. I keep silent.

"And I'm throwing this away." He says, proceeding my fake ID card from his pocket and throwing it into the bean. There go my thirty dollars of suffering.

"This is illegal-"

"We don't need to talk about this, I was wrong and it was stupid of me. I'm sorry, and thank you for taking care of me. It won't happen again." I cut him off, wanting to stop his lecturing. Everything is over now, I'm safe and I learnt a lesson, I just want him back with me. "That's immediately more mature of you." He compliments, still sounding severe. "I don't ever want to have this discussion again, do you hear me?" He asks, and I nod vigorously. I don't ever want to have his discussion again either.

"Good." He says, and then he kisses me, tender and sweet, and I know he's back with me. He kisses my cheek, my jaw, and his lips ghost over my neck, sending chills throughout my body.  "I'm going to take a shower." He murmurs into my ear, nibbling at my earlobe. I hum incoherently, savoring the feeling of his lips on my skin.

"Do you want to come with me?" He asks, pulling me out of my reverie. Taking a shower with him? The thought makes me uncomfortable. I'm too scared of being naked in front of him, I don't know why. But I don't want to give him that excuse, and I look desperately for another one.

"Okay, that's fine." He breathe, his eyes softening. He understood. I want to blush. How can he read into me like that? "I'll be quick." He says, giving my lips a small peck. With that he disappears to the bathroom. When Mark is done showering I take my turn and definitely wash yesterday's events away under a hot shower. When I'm all dry, I wrap a towel around my body and walk back into Mark's room to steal a T-shirt and a pair of boxers from him. Mark is laying on is bed, on his phone, and he smiles sa he sees me.

"23 minutes." He says. Is he talking about the time I spent under the shower? "Did you have a party inside or what?" He jokes and I giggle. 23 minutes isn't long, is it? I take out a T shirt and a pair of boxers from his drawer. "I'm a girl, leave me alone." I reply. As I walk around his bed to go back to the bathroom, Mark  grabs my hand and pulls me towards him, making me fall on the bed next to him. I squeal as he wraps his strong arms around me from behind, holding me close to his chest as he nibbles at the skin of my neck. We lay hers for a moment without saying a word, and I'm just enjoying his fresh perfume. I roll onto my back as a question pops inside my head.

"What were you doing out with your friends last night?" I ask him.

"We were celebrating Jackson's engagement." He replies. I remember I've never seen his friends before, and Id be curious to see how he is with them. Suddenly I remember him talking to his friend last night, saying my name.

"Your friends know about me?" I ask.

"Of course, yeah." He says. So, he's not ashamed about me? About dating a 18 years old girl?

"And they understand?" I ask, and he hums positively.

"They'd love to meet you." He says.

"Really?" I ask.

"I'll introduce you, someday. They're cool." He says. Meeting his friends? It's a big step, maybe not as big as meeting his parents, but still. i wonder how him and I look from the outside. Do we look compatible? Surely not. I'm sure his friends would rather see him with a model.

"What?" Mark asks. Did I think too loud?

"You could literally have any girl you want. Why me?" I ask, realizing too late that I had said it out loud.

"I want you." He replies, and I turn my head to him.

"Why?"

"Do I need a reason, Abigail?" He shifts on his forearm so his laying on his side and towering above me, brown, loving eyes diving into mine. How can this man love me?

"The fact that someone like you could love me seems so... unreal." The words are out of my mouth before I can know, and I immediately regret them. He frowns.

"But I do, Abby. I've told you so many times." He coos.

"What do I have that other girls don't?"

"Both of this," He taps my temple with index. "And this." He taps the place where my heart is. "I shouldn't let go a girl who read all the Harry Potter's and loves Spyair." I giggle like the schoolgirl I am. We do have similar music tastes, but then it could mean he could date Bea too.

"What else?" For the first time I seem to be genuinely liking his flattery. "These." His finger strokes my mouth and his eyes briefly darken as he glances down at my lips then back up at my eyes. Oh, cocky Mark is my favorite. "And those." He squeezes my cheeks and his eyes lighten with playfulness. "And this." His finger runs along my nose and I crinkle it."And this. This. And this." He kisses my eye, ear and chin. "And I love all of this." He unfolds my towel, revealing my naked body, his glowing eyes never leaving the blue of mine. I'm taken aback, and a strong blush heats my face.

For the first time I'm completely exposed to him, and it's embarrassing. I want to cover myself an run away"From here." He places is index on the dip base of my neck."To here." His finger runs down between my collarbones, my breasts and across my belly and he stops at my navel, his eyes never leaving mine. My breathing changes, I shiver as something wakes up inside of me."And from here..." He stares into my eyes as he cups my sex, running his middle finger along my slit, parting my lips. My mouth open as I gasp.

"To here." He eases a finger inside of me and I moan.  He gently, slowly, thrusts his finger in and out and nuzzles my neck and I am lost."Is this okay, baby?" He murmurs into my ear. "Yes." I breathe, my eyes closing themselves as I focus of the pleasure he gives me. He buries his face in my neck and kisses me, his soft lips sending chills throughout my body. His fingers continues its sweet torture and I love the feeling. I bite my lip to prevent myself from moaning. "Don't hold back, baby. Show me you like it." He says, and forcing me to oblige, he slides a second finger inside of me. "Ah!" I cry out as he fills me up some more. His tongue flicks against the skin of my neck and I moan louder and louder.

He moves his fingers in and out of me at a steady pace, and my head starts to spin as I lose myself in the pleasure. His thumb starts to tease my clit, and the sudden wave of pleasure feels like an electroshock. "Ah!" My hips starts to move on their own, savoring the sweet torture of his fingers. I circle my hips and grind onto his hand, and he picks up pace, pushing me closer to my edge. No, no, no! I don't want to love this, it's the same pleasure that Liam felt when he abused me. Mark continues to move his fingers inside of me, round and round, in and out, rubbing them against my walls, and the pleasure is stronger than my will.

"Mark, please!" I moan incoherently, tilting my head to the side and giving him better access to my neck as he devours my skin. One of my hand grabs his arms and the other grabs his hand, holding him still as I move my hips at an erratic speed. My breathing heaves as I quicken, and I can't control myself anymore.

"Let go, baby." Mark rasps into my ear.

"No!" I moan, but my body savors the pleasure. I think I'm reaching the no returning point, my body is on fire, and I can't seem to control myself. All I can sense is the pleasure, bigger, stronger. "I said, let go, Abby." Mark growls, and his words have my undoing. My body roars as I come and come, and I love this taste of ecstasy. The volatile sensation disappears, and my body returns to peace, and after a moment, I open my eyes. Mark's face is still buried in my neck, and he kisses me softly.

"Why do you do this?" He asks against my skin. "What?" I breathe. He whips his hand on my towel, and I'm glad he can't see me flush. "Why don't you want to come?" He asks.   
"Because I feel guilty." I reply quietly. Mark lefts his face and locks his eyes with mine. "Why?" He asks, his brows furrowed. I shrug the question away, not wanting to tell him. I make a move to get out of the bed, but he holds me back.

 "No, Abby. Don't do this." He says.

"Do what?" I ask, covering myself with my towel.

 "Don't run away from me." He says, his eyes searching into mine. Am I running away? I search into his eyes. What is he saying? "Please, Abby." He insists, and I sigh, giving in.

"I feel like I shouldn't like it so much, after what happened to me." I explain.

"I shouldn't even like sex, and yet you..." I sigh, unable to put words on the sorcery he's got me under. I don't know what exactly he does to me, I don't know how I should call it. All I know is that it's making me... whole.

"Baby, sex is not weird nor disgusting, nor wrong, when it's with someone you love." He says.

"Rape is about forcing one's feeling on someone else. But if you love me like I love you, then it should feel right, and it's completely okay to like it." He adds. The pleasure he's giving me has nothing to do with what Liam did to me, because Mark loves me and I love him.

I understand this is all about love, but then something occurs me.

"What would I do if you ever left me?" I murmur. The thought is horrifying. I can't imagine myself without him, he became so indispensable to me. His lips curl upward.

"You don't even have to worry about this, baby. There's no way I'm leaving." He murmurs before kissing me. I would love not worrying about this, but I'm not confident enough. I'm everything he doesn't know, I'm eight years younger and he only dated older girls; he is beautiful and sexy, and smart, and sweet, how can I possibly hold him?

"You should tell Bea." Mark says after a moment of silence.

"You think?"

"Yes. You were right since the start, and you should have told her when she told you she liked me." He replies. He's right, I really have to tell her. I imagine her reaction, she's going to be so mad. What if she's so mad that she never forgives me?

"I'm scared I'll lose her." I whisper.

 "I know." Mark murmurs, kissing my hair. I'll tell her when Mark brings me home. I remember my clothes are at Aurianne's. 

"I have nothing to wear, did I leave any clothes last week?" I ask him.

"Your jeans and a pair of sneakers. I can give you a T-shirt." He says. "Oh, perfect." I sigh.

"I don't know about you, but I'm famished." He says. I realize I'm hungry too. "I'll cook us something." I say, getting out of his bed. In an excess of I don't know what, I let my towel fall onto the floor.

 "So you do touch knives." Mark says, putting his hands behind his head.

"You'd be surprised." I slip his shirt on and wink at him.

"I'd love to watch you, but I have copies to correct." He replies as I put on his underwear. "Alright, I'll holler when the food is ready." I reply, walking out of his room.

Now that we've talked about Bea, I remember I haven't called her since yesterday, I need to know if she's okay. I fond my phone in the kitchen, and see I have two missed calls from her. Oh, skilled mr Tuan who's got me moaning so loud that I can't even hear my phone ringing. I call her back.  "Abigail! Are you still at mr Tuan's?" Is the first thing she says when she picks up. Thank god, she's okay.

"Yes. Are you guys okay? How did you go home?" I ask.

"Taxi."

"Everyone okay?"

"Yeah, we're having a major hangover right now." She giggles.

"Okay, I just wanted to know if you were okay."

"We're fine, come back soon. You have things to tell me." She says, and I can almost see her squirm.

"Yeah." I reply.

"Bye." She says before hanging up. I wander in the kitchen for a moment, trying to find inspiration. What can I cook for my man? I'm not much of a great cook, but I want to impress him. Impress him with what? I only have the basic skills. I result to pasta a la Carbonara for today. I've only cooked it once and it was okay, so why not? Practice is the key of progress after all.

Mark and I are in his car as he brings me hack to our secret meeting point. The weather is a bit fresh outside, so he lent me one of his hoodies. At some point it even starts to rain.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drop you at your house?" Mark asks me.

"No. I'll run." I reply. I don't like the rain, but we can't take any risk. The ride gets quiet until Mark breaks the silence.

"Does Bea know what happened to you?" He asks me. What a stupid question

"Of course she does." I have to refrain myself from adding a sassy 'duh' at the end of my answer.

"Don't make it sound so obvious, please." He says dryly.

 "Well, she's my best friend, so it's pretty self-evident." I reply.

 "But it's not when it comes to your boyfriend." He mumbles more to himself than to me, but loud enough so I can hear him. "Now you're being unreasonable." I reply.

 "Me? Unreasonable? Oh, please." He says, exasperated. I don't even know why he's getting mad, as if he thought I was going to say no. I think he was just looking for a fight

. "You're always insisting, it's so annoying. You knew the answer to that question, you do it on purpose." I reply.

"It just goes beyond me, Abby. I don't understand how you cannot want to tell me about this, it's not being unreasonable, it's being normal. How can you think a relationship can work if you keep such things secret?" He says.

"I don't know, I know nothing about relationships. All I know is that I'm not ready yet." I reply. What does he not understand? I've told him so many times all I needed was time. I hate talking about that event, it's physical. It's really hard for me, yet I'm trying, for him. He's just never satisfied.

"How long-"

"I just need time!" I cut him off, losing my cool. Jeez! Does he not feel bad pushing me like this? He's so impatient.

 "We've been together for almost three months and I still don't know what happened to you?" He replies, parking his car at our quiet place.

 "You don't need to know!" I articulate. He keeps insisting on this as if it could jeopardize our relationship. But we've been together for almost three months, and I thought we were good. I thought he was happy with our relationship. 

"How can you say that? All I want-"

"It's always about what you want!" I cut him off. It's always about him. Him nit wanting me to do this or that, him wanting to be on top, him being mad at me. He's being so selfish! I don't understand him. What is this fuss about?

  
"It's just about sex, right?" I ask bitterly?

"What?" He asks.

"It's just about sex, right? You want me to open up just so you can fuck me without feeling guilty!" I spit. I can almost see his anger, like a dark aura radiating from him.

"Be careful with what you say, Abby." He growls, his voice calm yet hard. It's so chilling. I think it's the maddest Mark can be. So mad that he doesn't even scream. And once again he's mad at me. He pushes me until I burst out, and then he gets mad at me. I can't stand this man.

"Fuck you." I reply on the same tone as him, and I storm out of his car.

"Abby, come back here!" He calls, getting out of his car as well. There he is again, calling me as if I was his dog, his fucking asset. I want him to stop, for good. I turn around abruptly, almost colliding with his chest. He glares down at me, hair dampening because of the rain. 

"You know what? Fuck you!" I snarl. 

"If what I give to you is not enough, then go fuck yourself!" I turn on my heels, but he grabs my arm and violently pulls me against him. His eyes are burning with fury. He's furious, and so am I. 

"If you think for one second that I'm gonna crawl back to you after this," He threatens through gritted teeth. I'm tired of his threats, I won't let him have any kind of power on me. 

"Fuck you!" I spit back, yanking my arm away. I turn on my heels and pace away from him. My hair and my clothes are drenched, and I'm freezing.

My body gives up on me, and I have to lean against the nearest wall to prevent myself from collapsing. Suddenly, I'm in pain. I can't tell if it's the rain or tears that are rushing down my face, but I can feel it, I can see it, I can hear it, my heart is breaking. The pain is mental, physical, metaphysical, and I sob as the weight of what I've done sinks into me, crushing my heart as it does; I am shaking. I turn around, and his car is not there anymore. I run both of my hands in my hair, pulling at it as hard as I. What have I done?

 


	14. Chapter 14

My life has been passing in slow motion. It’s been three days since Mark and I fought, but I look like I haven’t seen light in three years. My body doesn’t handle my mental state, I’m never hungry, I feel dehydrated. I constantly have to act, I do my best not to cry in front of people, even though they know there is something wrong going on with me. Since I can cry during the day, I cry at night, as silently as I can, and controlling my emotions like this is not only a mental work, it’s physical. That’s why I don’t sleep and that’s why I’m so tired. I am fully aware I was wrong for snapping at Mark like this, and it’s been haunting me ever since he left me under the rain. I’m constantly sending him tons of texts telling him I’m sorry but he never replies, and he doesn’t take my calls. I don’t know how long he’s going to be mad or if he’s going to calm down. I feel like I’ve lost him, I feel like everything is over, and it hurts. I shouldn’t have let him become so important to me.

  
Bea knows I’m not feeling well, no matter how hard I try to hide it. But I want to avoid as much questions as I can; because the less questions she asks, the less I lie. That’s why I agreed to go shopping with her today. Prom is in a little bit more than a month, and we are at Prom Girl Store to buy our dresses. I don’t know what I’m doing here, I don’t want to go to prom, I’m not in the mood for even thinking about prom. Bea is trying another dress on, and here I am, lost in my thoughts. I send Mark another message, and it makes me angry that I still hope a reply from him.

Bea comes out of the cabin in a sleeveless princess grown with a pale pink bustier and a white skirt. I’m in awe of her, she looks like a small marshmallow with curly hair.

 “What do you think?” She asks me, turning around for me to see well. She does look amazing, but the dark blue lace dress she tried earlier was better.

“I like the blue one better.” I reply, and she tilts her head to the side, showing me a cute grimace.

 “I don’t knoooooow.” She whines. She smacks her tongue and sighs. I think she really likes both. She stalks over to me and sits down on the small sofa.

“Are you sure you’re not trying anything?” She asks, sticking her bottom lip out in a cute pout. I shake my head. I’m just not in the mood for shopping, and I don’t even know if I’m going to prom.  She sighs for a long time, and I can see the features of her face hardening.

“What’s going on?” Tell me.“ She asks. I dreaded this question. I tried really hard not to show my chagrin, looks like it’s so big that I miserably failed.

"Nothing.” I lie, and she rolls her eyes at me.

 “Oh, please, please, Abigail. Don’t play that game, please.” She says, obviously trying to hide her frustration. I look down at my knotted fingers. She’s already mad, how am I supposed to tell her about me and Mark?

 “You barely talk to me anymore, Abigail.” She says, and I’m forced to look up at her big and deep green eyes that are pained with sadness.

 “That’s not true, Bea.” I shake my head. “We never hang out together anymore. You’re always out on weekends, with friends I don’t even know. And you don’t even want to introduce me to them.” She argues. How am I supposed to tell her it was all lies? I’ve gone too far into my own lies, I don’t know how to get out of it.  


 

“Did I do something?” She asks. The idea that I could make her feel that bad saddens me in the most painful way. First Mark, and then her, I feel like I’m hurting everyone I love.

“No, no, Bea.” I shake my head vigorously. I feel so bad, it hurts to realize how much pain I can bring to people. That was not my intention, I don’t want to hurt anyone, it hurts me more than anything else.

“Look, I’m sorry if you felt neglected, I promise I don’t love you less.” I say sincerely. I can’t hold back the excess of emotion that rushes inside of me, and tears pool at the corners of my eyes. Her brow cease as she sees it.

 “Why are you crying?” She asks, taking my face in her hands. I burst into tears, and she wraps me in her arms. Oh, Bea, I’m so sorry.

“What is going on, Abigail?” She asks, stroking my hair. I just can’t stop crying, even if I try to.

“I don’t know, I’ve just felt so down lately.” I lie through my tears. She pulls away from me and plunges her eyes into mine.

“Why?” She asks, and I shrug. “I hate seeing you like this.” She says, her thumbs caressing my cheeks as I start to calm myself down.

 “Come on, dry those tears. I’m gonna get this dress I saw in the store, you’re going to try it, okay?” She says, and her warm smiles prevents me from saying no.

Bea gets me a white princess grown with a sweet heart neckline and spaghetti straps and an open back. Prosaic and pure, and I love. This dress is absolutely magnificent. I walk out of the fitting room, and Bea sees me. Her eyes widen a little bit as she leans in. I bite my lip. Ah, the feels!

 “Wow.” She articulates. She likes it too! “That dress is perfect for you.” She smiles as I turn around.

“I like it too.” I reply.

“You have to buy it.” She says. Buy it? For what?  

"I don’t even have a date.“ I sigh.

"Neither do I.” She says, getting up from her seat.

“We’ll be each other’s date. We’ll have fun by ourselves.” She proposes, radiating with happiness. I smile at her. “Come on, take it.” She encourages me. “Fine.” I give in.

“What about you? Which one did you take?” I ask her. I hope she chose the blue one.

 “I’ll come back another day, I need to show my mom first.” She says. Damn, she must be hesitating a lot. I don’t see what she’s hesitating about, blue definitely is her color.

“I’m telling you, the blue one is prettier.” I say, and she crinkles her nose.

 "I don’t know. “ She whines, and I sigh, going back into the fitting room to take the dress off. After the prom dress shop, I decide to take Bea to a cute cafe, one because she’s the best friend ever and I’ve been neglecting her and she deserves a treat, and two because for the first time in three days, I AM HUNGRY. Guess she managed to light up my mood a little bit. She sits and I tell her I’ll go order her favorite smoothie. As I wait inside the queue, a man walks past me, V neck navy blue T-shirt, a light black jacket and jeans, a black straw lazily hanging from his mouth as he checks his phone. His familiar quaff and his adolescent features rings a bell in my mind and I immediately recognize Mark. Running into him, what a chance! He won’t be able to ignore me like this.

"Mark.” I call out before I can stop myself, and he lifts his eyes to me. He sees me, recognizes me, and pulls his straw out of his mouth.

 "Abby.“ He sighs, and I can see every feature of his face hardening as he pronounces my nickname. "What are you doing here?” Is the first thing I say to him.

“I’m not sure that’s any of your business.” He replies dryly, so distant and cold, and it’s almost enough to make me run away. He makes a move to leave but I hold him back.

“Mark, wait.” Taking him by the wrist, I drag him behind the center panel that hides the center row of tables from the checkouts. Peeking from behind it, I make sure Bea can’t see us.

  
“We have to talk.” I say to him. “I’m with a friend.” He waves somewhere behind him. I know we can’t talk right now, but I need to know if I have a chance to get him back. I understand him being mad at me, and not wanting to talk to me, but he can’t stay mad at me forever, can he? I have to force him to confront me. “If you want to break up with me, then say it.” I say, stepping closer to him, invading his personal space, deliberately, to make him uncomfortable.

“Say it.” I breathe, pressing him a little bit more. He makes a move to back away but I grab him by the material of his vest and hold him close to me, our lips almost touching each other. I want to kiss him so bad, I want to feel him again. I need to win him back. I frustrate him, he’s almost fuming; his eyes nervously search into mine. There are so many things I want to tell him, but I can’t, Bea is here.

 “If I come to your place later, will you listen to me?” I ask him. He sighs, not wanting to reply, but I insist with my eyes. Suddenly, my eyes land on a small silhouette behind Mark, peeking from behind the center panel.

“Bea!” I gasp in horror, and panic grips at my heart. She shakes her head, totally miffed, and disappears away. Shit, no!

“Bea, wait!” I call out, ditching Mark and running after her. She storms out of the cafe, I call her name again, and she turns around, her big green eyes moistened with tears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asks, her voice trembling.

“I tried, I swear. But you told me you thought you liked him and I…” I reply, struggling to find my words.

“You decided that stabbing me in the back was better.” She finishes it for me.

“I didn’t know what to do. But I wanted to tell you since the start, I swear.” I reply.

“No, it’s my fault. I was so stupid for thinking you were my best friend!” She exclaims, laughing sarcastically.

“Bea, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me, I need you.” Tears pool at my eyes. I’ve never seen her so mad in my entire life. What kind of friend am I?

“You need me?” She snorts through her tears. “Abigail, are you fucking serious? You need me?” She asks, taking a step closer to me. I don’t know what to say.

“Then it’s me or him, Abigail.” She says. Is she serious? My heart sinks a little.

“Wait, you can’t do this to me. We promised each other we wouldn’t do this.” I try to reason her.

“I’m not the only one breaking promises.” She says.

“I didn’t promise anything, Bea.” I reply.

“I liked him first!” She yells.

“We were already together when you told me.” I reply. She runs both of her hands in her hair, fuming with anger.

“You have no fucking idea of what I do for you?” She asks, and I want to reply that I do, but she cuts me off.  
“Why do you think everyone accept to call you Abigail?” Her question makes me frown.

“Every fucking time you told someone not to call you Abby, they would look at you funny and talk shit behind your back, and I would tell them seriously to be understanding. I am the reason why you do have friends, for fuck’s sake! And you, you…” She struggles to put words on what I did to her, her face painted with disgust.

“Bea, I’m really really in love with him. Please, don’t ask me to choose. I wouldn’t be happy with any choice I make.” I plead quietly.

“Then go fuck yourself.” She spits and turns on her heels.

“Bea!” I call after her, but I don’t have the strength to follow her. Suddenly it starts to rain heavily, the drops getting mixed up with my tears. We’re in fucking LA, how come it’s raining so much lately?!

-  
I knock on the front door of  Bea’s house and her mother opens the door, brown hair green eyes and tight dress.

“Abigail?” Her eyes widen as she sees me, and she brings her hand to her mouth.

“Liz, I have to talk to Bea.” I say weakly, my throat feeling sore after crying so much. She moves to let me in and I oblige, letting her close the door behind me.

“You are drenched, what is going on?” She takes my face between her hands, a motherly look of worry on her face.

 “Where is Bea?” I ask. She eyes me for a moment, but eventually lets me go.

“In her room.” She says. I go up to her room and knock on her door without telling her it’s me. She opens the door, sees me, and immediately tries to close it.

“Bea, wait.” I try to hold the door open but she slams it closed, almost breaking my nose.

“Bea, please.” I knock on her door desperately.

“Get out of here!” She yells from behind the door, and I understand it’s not today that she’ll forgive me, if she ever does.

I’m my own shadow as I step inside my house, worn out by the rain and the wind. I’ve hit the rock bottom. First Mark, then he, I lost everything.

“Abigail?” My mom says as she taking shaky steps inside. Her face is painted with worry as she walks to me. My bod gives up one in front of her.

“Mom…” I sob before bursting into tears, sinking onto my knees.

“Abigail, what’s wrong?” My mom asks in panic, dropping onto the floor next to me and wrapping her arms around me. I don’t reply and let myself go to my inner pain inside the warmth of the only pair of comforting arms I have left.


	15. Chapter 15

I lost everything. The two most precious persons I have in my life turned their backs at me. It's all my fault, I don't know why I keep hiding myself from Mark. I love him and I need him so much. I miss him, I feel so lonely. It's 1 am, it's Tuesday, the first day of spring break, and I'm still in bed. As I try to find the strength to get up, my phone rings. I seriously don't know who could call me, I look at my phone, it's Mark. I stand up straight on my bed. Mark? Why? I take his call immediately

"Hello?" I murmur. The line is quiet for a moment, and I wonder if he called me by mistake.

"Hi." Mark says quietly. "Hi." I reply, and he keeps silent for longs seconds. I was to throw myself in a monologue about how sorry I am, but something prevents me from doing it.

"I just wanted to know if things were alright with Bea." He finally says. Oh, right. He saw us before she left.

"Oh." I say. I can't help the surprise in my voice. He cares?

"She's mad, and she doesn't want to talk to me." I reply quietly, and he goes silent again. I wait patiently for something to happen, something that could make me think there still is hope.

"I have to talk to you." He says. What does he want to tell me? Is it something bad? He can't break up with me because of this, can he?

"I want to talk to you too." I murmur quietly. He gives me a heavy silence again, and I stop breathing. Am I finally going to see him?

"Let's say our quiet place, in half an hour, okay?" He proposes, and I let out a long sigh of relief.

"Okay." I breathe.

"Cool, see you there." He replies.

"Bye." I say, and he hangs up. Okay, okay, okay, Mark wants to see me. Why did he take so long to call me? And why is he calling me first? What does he feel bad about?

I do my best to erase the traces of my depression; concealer, BB cream, blush, I've never looked so fresh in my entire life. I don't want him to pity me, I don't want to get him back like that. I took me so long to look fine that I'm 15 minutes late when I arrive to out quiet place. Mark is leaning against his car, T-shirt, watch and jeans, checking the time on his wrist, he looks up at me and his face vanishes as he sees me. Mark's lips part as I come up to him, and he looks down at me as if I had grown an additional arm.

"Sorry I'm late." I breathe.

"When was your last meal?" He asks. His question confuses me. My last meal? Why?

"Your eyes look ten times too big in your face, you've lost at least six pounds." I blink at him a couple of times. I honestly don't know how to react. Mark let's out an exasperated sigh and moves to the side.

"Get in." He orders, holding the passenger door of his car open for me. Oh, bossy Tuan, I almost missed him. I get in his car and he closes my door before climbing in his seat.

"Where are we going?" I ask as he closes his door.

"To that cafe near my place, you remember?" He replies distractedly, reaching up for his belt.

"Where you kissed me for the first time." I whisper to myself, but I realize too late I talked to loud. I glance at him, and he's frozen. Oh, stupid me! Mark blinks a few times but eventually fastens his belt.

"Yes, that one." He says quietly. He starts the engine and drives off.

"What did you want to tell me?" I ask him.

"You have to eat first." He replies without looking at me, his eyes glued on the road. Why does he want me to eat before I can hear what he has to say?

"Is it something that bad?" I ask quietly, looking down at my knotted fingers.

"No, I just want you to be healthy." He replies. Whew.

"I'm not really hungry." I say as we stop in front of the red light. Mark glares at me.

"Let's go to your place. We'll talk and I promise I'll eat." I propose.

"Why my place?" He asks.

"I feel more comfortable." I shrug, and Mark gives in.

"Sit. I'll cook you something." Mark says as soon as we step into his apartment.

"Let's talk first." I reply, sitting at the kitchen counter. Mark glares at me again, and I grab his wrist.

"I'm going to eat, Mark, I promise." I plead, sitting him on the stool next to mine. Mark sighs loudly, running both of his hands in his hair. When he looks back at me, his eyes are painted with sadness.

"It's my fault if you're like this, I feel like I've broken you." He murmurs, almost to himself. I place my hand in his, and he runs his thumb over my knuckles.

"You promise you'll put back all the weight you lost because of me?" He asks, a simple request that seemed to mean the world to him.

"It's not your fault-"

"Promise me." He cuts me off, and I understand that no matter how much I talk he will still feel bad about it.

"I promise." I murmur, and Mark nods. He runs his thumb over my knuckles again, and brings my hand to his lips. Thank god we're not breaking up!

"I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. I don't know what got into me, I was just, I don't know..." Mark trails off.

"Getting impatient?" I say, and he looks up at me with surprised eyes.

"What? No." He shakes his head. I thought a lot during those four days, and I understand why he got mad at me. He wants to have sex with me, and I know that this reason should make him the most dangerous person for me, but he loves me, and that changes everything. He loves me, and he wants us to be intimate, I understand it's hard to wait. Especially with all that sexual tension between us.

"I know it's hard to support people every day." I say.

"Abby, no." He lets my hand go. He looks disgusted by the picture of him I'm drawing. I understand he feels bad for urging me like this.

"No, listen to me. It doesn't make you a bad person." I reply. "I don't want someone who's going to wait for me indefinitely, I need someone who's here to push me forward." I explain. This fight was like an electro shock. I don't feel in my right anymore. I know I've been raped, and I know it's a universal excuse to be closed to the world, but now it doesn't feel legitimate anymore.

"I don't want to force my feelings onto you." Mark replies, using the same words he used to describe rape.

"And you're not. Because I do want you to feel good, and I want to feel good too." I reply, and Mark keeps quiet for a moment.

"It's hard to realize how much you can hurt the ones you love the most. I don't know how I could be so cruel to you." He says, his eyes apologetic.

"I haven't been nice either. I shouldn't have insulted you." I reply.

"I deserved it." He snorts. After a long moment of looking at me in the eyes, Mark let's my hand go and cups my face.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs softly. I briefly look down at his lips, they are so pink and plumb, and it's been four days since I haven't tasted then.

"Kiss me." I breathe, and Mark smile at me, but he obliges, and places his lips on mine. Geez, I've missed this so much. I kiss him back vigorously, claiming his lips as mine. He slowly pulls away, and I want to whine at the loss of contact.

"I missed you." I murmur to him, and he smile.

"I missed you too, Abby." He replies before kissing me again. We're back together, I'm giddy with relief. I never want to fight with him again.

"There is something I want to tell you." I say to him, and he frowns at me. Without a word I take his hands and lead him to the couch, it'll be more comfortable to talk here. We sit down, facing each other, and he eyes me questioningly. Okay, here goes nothing.

"I was at a party, without Bea, and I got a little tipsy." I start off.

"There was that guy, who played the taxi man for us." His name comes back to me like the bitter taste of a grape fruit.

"Liam." I say. "He was drunk, but I was alone, and..." I trail off, and the irony of my words don't fail me.

"Walking home seemed too dangerous to me." I snort but it doesn't make him laugh.

"He asked me what my name was, and when I replied he started calling me Abby. I fell asleep inside the car and when I woke up we were in a parking lot, and he was getting in at the back of the car next to me." I say.

"He had a knife, and he got on top of me. I couldn't move. He kept his knife on my neck and said he would slice my throat of I made a noise." I see him getting on top of me, invading my personal space. Oh and his smell, a mix of alcohol and tobacco that comes back to me like a reminiscence. Tears pool at my eyes, and I'm angry as I recall his actions.

"I kept quiet the whole way through. But he was having such a good time raping me that he lost control, and he left scars." I say. Marks face hardens, and I know it's hard for him to hear this.

"And he kept saying all those dirty things into my ear. It was disgusting." I can't help but start to cry as the sound of his voice comes back to me.

"' _You like that, Abby?' 'Are you going to come, Abby?_ '" I say, my face painted with disgust. My words get to Mark and he reaches out to me.

"Okay, okay." He says, taking me in his arms, and I'm glad he doesn't want the details, I don't have to remember all the things he did to me. I sob in his arms, but I feel liberated inside. Now he knows everything there is to know.

"He is in jail now, right?" He asks quietly after a moment. I pull away from him and shake my head no, whipping my nose in the most unladylike way. Mark frowns at my answer.

"What?" He asks, incredulous.

"The policeman who took my testimony was his father, and his father in law is the general procurer. My testimony never got through. Bea's father is in the police too, but he couldn't do anything." I explain.

"What?" Mark breathes.

"But there was an obvious conflict of interest," He says. I know that if I had the strength just to talk to another policeman, things would be different, but I don't have it.

"I know, but you can't know how hard it is for me to talk about it." I cut him off. "I had to tell the details to the policeman, to my family, and to Bea and her family. I just didn't want, and I still don't want to have to remember." I explain.

"So, he's still in town." He says, obviously trying to make me realize something. I know with him in town there is a chance to bump into him, and I know I won't handle being face to face with him. But my fear of talking about what he did to me is just bigger. And I just want to forget about what happened.

"I know it sounds weird but... I don't care." I shrug, and Marks lips form a thin line. He eyes me for a moment, his eyes searching into mine. He keeps looking at me silently and I understand he's lost in his thoughts, he's probably trying to imagine the scene.

"Thank you for telling me." He finally says, and I give him a small smile. Taking another big step towards him, I reach behind my neck and undo the clasp of my choker. I take it off, and when I look back up at Mark, his eyes are still glued on mine. He doesn't even dare to look. I tilt my chin up, exposing my scars to him. I can't really see from this angle, but I can't tell he's looking. He places his hand on my neck, and his thumb grazes my swollen skin. My breathing heaves. He runs his thumb over a scar again, and then he places his lips on it. Ah! I want to push him away, but he kisses my neck again, and again, and again, his tongue flicks against my scars, and I moan. I tangle my fingers in his hair and hold him close as he kisses me. He kisses me higher on my neck, his lips traveling up to my jaw. Now I want him. It's been so long, I need to feel him again. Taking his face in my hands, I kiss him, climbing up onto his lap. Mark replies to my kiss, but suddenly he pulls away.

"Wait." He breathes, trying to catch his breath. "You have to eat." He says. I blink at him. "Are you serious? I ask, still panting.

"You didn't tell me. When was your last real meal?" He prompts. Really, now?

"Mister Tuan, you sure know how to choose your moments." I sigh.

"You know how to make me mad." He replies. Mad? Oh no, not again.

"Tell me." He commands.

"Pasta a la Carbonara, four days ago." I murmur quietly.

"Abby!" Mark exclaims, scolding me. Geez, I should have lied. Well, he would probably have known. This man is so authoritative, why do I like it?

"Fuck, are you serious?" He asks, and I shrug apologetically He lets out a 'what am I going to do with you' sigh.

"I'll go cook you something." He says, moving me aside as he gets up. Is he really going to ruin the moment like this?

 "Mark, we were just about to-"

"Not before you've eaten." He says, ditching me and walking in the kitchen. What the hell? Can he just stop being so controlling one minute?

"Four days! Four days without eating, how are you even walking, Abby?" He exclaims, making me giggle silently. Actually, no. I don't want him to stop being so controlling. I don't care if he drives me crazy, I love him so. I get up from my seat and follow him. I've missed this man so much. 

"You could pass out at any time. Your eyes look ten times too big in your face, you're telling me your mom didn't see anything?" He asks me.

"She's not as controlling as you." I giggle.

"I can see that." He says bitterly. Now I like it. I like him getting mad at me for nothing. In an excess of happiness, I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him.

"I missed you so much." I murmur, and he relaxes in front of me, wrapping his arms around me.

"I missed you too, baby." He replies before kissing me. I make move to deepen the kiss but he pulls away. Ah! This is torture.

"Pancakes?" He proposes, and I hum appreciatively, letting go of him. Mark kisses my nose and lets me go, opening the door of his fridge.

"How many?" He asks me, pulling a bottle of homemade pancake dough out of his fridge.

"Two, please." I reply, taking a seat behind the counter.

"Two?" Mark turns to me.

"Please, Mark, I'm not even hungry. I'm eating because you'll go sicko if I don't." I argue.

"You're not even hungry after four days?" He asks.

"Not for food." I reply, and he gives me a wicked smile, shaking his head. I want to play with him, I know things will get interesting if I get him worked up.   
"Two pancakes and a yogurt, and you'll be rewarded." Mark proposes.  
"Okay." I give in. I watch as Mark plays this the pan, I'm still mesmerized by the sight of him cooking. Cooking Mark is... Hot. And he cooks really well, his homemade lasagnas are delicious. When he finishes Mark drops the plate with two golden pancakes in front of me with a fork and a knife and a glass of apple juice.

"Eat." He orders, standing in front of me. Is he really going to watch me eat? I feel like a child, but I oblige. I take a bite of my pancakes and they are absolutely delicious. I moan at the taste, and Mark gives me a satisfied smile.

"Why didn't you go to class last Monday?" Mark asks me. We had just fought the day before, my while world was plunged in darkness, how was I supposed to go? I remember how I kept throwing up that day, and how I cried when I realized he didn't even send me a text to know if I was okay. Jeez he could have texted me. It was the last day before spring break after all. I never want to feel like this again, the thought makes me shiver.

"I was feeling sick. Actually I've felt sick for the past four days." I reply.

"It wasn't what I wanted." He says, and my heart sinks a little. He feels bad because I haven't been eating?

"It was my fault, Mark." I reply, and he nods, but I can tell he's not really convinced.

"Eat." He orders, and I oblige. I know he doesn't want to talk about this, neither do I actually.

"You make the best pancakes, I swear." I complement between to mouthfuls.

"You better eat it all then." He says, and I make a grimace.

"They are really big." I remark. I'm not sure I'm going to eat all of this. I know I haven't eaten a lot since we fought but I'm not hungry at all.

"You didn't request a precise size." He replies.

"Mark, I'm not going to finish all of this." I say.

"Yes, you are." His answer is categoric. He's not up for discussion. I'm not going to force myself, I hope he won't get mad; we'll see. I resume my eating; I want this reward. I have to refrain myself from pouting. Why did he have to make them so big? I ask myself between to mouthfuls. I'm lucky his pancakes are so tasty. They melt on my tongue, I don't really feel like I'm eating. I focus on my food and Mark watches me, and after what seems like eternity I put my fork and my knife in my empty plate and push it towards him. Whew. I'm done.

"Good girl." He says appreciatively, his voice low and deep. Good girl? Oh, I like this game. He takes my empty plate and puts it into the sink. Then he opens the fridge and dives his head into it, leaning forwards and giving me a full view of his golden a- 

"Now your yogurt. What flavor do you want?" He asks, pulling me out of my reverie. 

I blush even though he can't see me. 

"Mark flavor." I murmur, and he turns around to look at me, giving me a wicked smile. I shrug innocently and he shakes his head. 

"Let's go with the good old vanilla." He says, taking a tub out of his fridge. He takes a little spoon and opens the lid of the yogurt. I watch as he dips the spoon inside the tub, filling it up with yogurt. Locking his eyes with mine, he brings the spoon to my lips. 

"Open." He commands. So he's feeding me? With white food, how ironic. He's playing too now. Mmmh... This should be interesting. I open my mouth, letting him put the spoon inside. I close my lips around it, and suck. He starts pulling it out, slowly, and I suck, just how I would suck his-

"I know what you’re doing." He says, once the spoon is out of my mouth. I swallow. 

"Do you, now?" I tilt my head to the side, acting obtuse on purpose. I want to push him to his limit, I want him to be the one grabbing my face and kissing the life out of me. He doesn't give in and smirks at me. He puts more yogurt in the spoon and feeds me again, but then I see his eyes darken. It's getting to him, I'm doing good. I let out an exaggerated moan as I make the yogurt slide all over my tongue, I love vanilla. I see his adam apple move as he swallows, and he parts his lips a little.

"You like?" He asks me, and I nod.

"Taste by yourself." I propose. A primitive light flashes in his eyes, and my subconscious grins in triumph. Without a word he makes the tub slide across the counter, closer to me. I take it in my hands and take a spoonful, dropping the yogurt on my tongue. Then I grab him by the collard of his T-shirt and pull him to me and he opens his mouth, letting me kiss him. And I do, I kiss him languorously, my tongue invading his mouth. His tongue meets mine in a slow and sensual dance, and he savors the sweet taste of vanilla of my mouth. I pull away slowly, locking my eyes with his, and I can see in his eyes he's a stroke away from giving in.

"Tasty." He says. He takes the tub back and offers me another spoonful, but I'm tired of playing. I shake my head no.

"No more?" He asks. 

"I'm full, I swear." I reply.

"Fine." He says, and he turns around to throw the yogurt into the bean. As he does, I get up from my seat and walk around the counter, when he turns back around, my lips are on his. At first he's taken aback, but he's fast to reply to my kiss, sucking on my lips and nibbling at them. I do the same thing to him, and I run my tongue in circles on the inside of his lip. He groans into my mouth, his hands coming down to give my behind a strong squeeze. His touch gets me going, and I push him against the counter, my lips moving from his mouth to his jaw and his neck. I kiss him just under his chin, and run my tongue under his adam apple, and I feel him stiffen against me. I reach down to the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. I want to lick my lips at the sight of his toned torso, but I think I prefer licking it instead. I kiss the dip base of his neck, dipping my tongue into it, and my lips follow a winding path down between his pecks. I run my tongue in the hollows between his abs. Mmmh, his skin tastes so good, I've missed him so much. A carnal desire wakes up inside of me again, and the taste of him comes back to me like a recollection, vague and blurry. The memory is so volatile, I don't want to forget, I need to taste him again. Kneeling down before him, I undo his jeans, running my tongue over his skin following the waistline of his boxers. Mark takes a sharp breath and the air hisses between his teeth.

 "Baby, I'm not gonna last long if you do this." He breathes.

 "That's the point, Mark. I don't have any patience today, you don't know how bad I want to taste you." I reply, sliding his pants down. I kiss him over the material of his boxers, he's already hard for me. I lick him on all of his length, and he lets out a timid moan that encourages me to continue. I tease him through his boxers, kissing and licking him, and I feel him harden under my touch. I run my palm over his bulge, caressing him. Mark's chest starts to rise higher as he breathes, and I decide to take it to the next level. I hook my fingers in his boxers and slide them down, and he springs free, long and proud, and I'm almost salivating.

I peek up at him through long lashes, locking our eyes together. I take him into my hand and stroke him on all of his length, he's so hard. The air hisses between Mark's teeth, and it’s a sound I love.

"Fuck." He moans as I pump him, getting him all worked up. I kiss the base of his erect shaft, and my tongue flicks against his skin as I do. I kiss his tip and swirl my tongue around it, and he throws his head back. He's ready now. I take him into my mouth and suck, and as soon as I do, Mark lets out a throaty groan. Mark lets out timid moans as I work on him, and his hips slowly start to move on their own.

"Abby, wait." He moans desperately as I so my beat to suck as hard as I can.

"Abby, Abby..." His voice is barely audible, vaporous. He's so vulnerable, I suck harder.

"Shit." He moans. That's right, Mark. It feels so good to have him under my control.

"Abby, no, stop." Mark groans, tugging at my hair. I immediately let go of him.

"Did I do something wrong?" I ask, my worry clearly audible in my voice. Mark gives me a small side smile.

"No, no, baby. You're doing good. You got better at this, and I've missed you, and it's been long..." He explains, and it gets hard for me to understand his point. I can tell he's getting uncomfortable.

  
"I'm afraid I'm gonna lose it." He says. Loose it? I want him to lose it, I want him to lose himself and take me with him.

"That's what I want, Mark." I reply, looking up at him through long lashes.

"I don't want to be too rough with you." He says quietly. Does it mean he's usually rough? Even if he is, I still don't know my limits, I don't know what I can take. But I've had a lot of firsts with him, my firsts orgasms, my firsts chagrins, my firsts romantic dates; he helps me explore myself, and I can't do it without him.

"I'll tell you to stop if I can't take it." I say. He frowns and I understand immediately what his worry is about. I get back up to his level, plunging my eyes into his.

"I know you'll stop if I ask you to. You asked me to trust you, and I do, now you have to trust me. Let me taste you, please, I've missed you." I say to him, and his thumbs stroke my cheeks as I speak. His eyes search into mine for what seems like eternity, and he eventually nods.

  
"Okay." He breathes, and I kiss him again, pressing my body onto his, feeling his erection against my stomach. I kneel down again and take him into my mouth.

  
"Ah, shit." Mark starts to thrust inside my mouth, slowly timidly, and I do my best to suck while matching his movements.

"That's it, baby. Just like that." He compliments, and I double my efforts."Oh, baby you're doing so good." He compliments, savoring the feeling of my mouth around him. He picks up pace.

"Baby, I'm gonna come." He warns, his voice shaky, and he sounds helpless. His thrusts get even faster, and he gets louder, my name falling out of his mouth like priers. Then he thighs and abs tense up, and he fists his hands in my hair.

"Shit!" He cries out, the torturous sound almost making me smile in triumph, and he comes into my mouth, letting me taste him again. It's the taste of him, and I love it. Mark let's go of my head as he tries to catch his breath, leaning back against the counter. I let go of him and swallow his juice, looking at him through long lashes. He smirks as he watches me, and shakes his head in disbelief.

"You're amazing, baby." He compliments as I get back on my feet. He's still panting, and I smile at him triumph. I made him come, and he still can't compose himself, I did really good.

"We aim to please, Mr. Tuan." I reply before kissing the spot right below his ear. Mark pulls his pants back up and, taking me by surprise, picks me up. I yelp and wrap my arms and legs around him so he can't let me go.

"Well, young girl, that was one hell of a blowjob. Let's see if I can pay you back for that." He says, walking off to his room. I'm almost squirming. Oh my god!

Mark takes he to his room and lays me down on his bed. He doesn't lean over me and sits between my legs. I watch as he undoes the buttons of my denim shorts. Oh, interesting. He slides them down my legs and drops them onto the floor, leaving me in his T-shirt and my panties. My breathing heaves as he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my underwear. Squeezing my legs as close as possible, I let him slide them off me.

"Spread your legs." He says, and panic grips at my heart. I don't want him to see me from this angle. This view is way too... full.

"It's just me, baby. Just us. Come on, spread your legs for me." He murmurs. Oh fuck it. He's seen my bare face before, and I'm sure he's already seen a vagina. I reluctantly open my legs, completely exposing myself. Mark bends and starts kissing the inside of my left knee, then he goes up my thigh. This is an egregious zone. Feeling him kissing me here sends tingles right to my core and starts to build the tension. He keeps kissing me, closer and closer to my center, and as he comes closer he adds his tongue to the mix. 

Oh, it feels really good. He reaches the apex of my thigh and licks the place that connects to my center. I'm on fire already. I feel his breathe against my sex, and I pant in apprehension. He doesn't kiss me there, instead he starts working on my other leg. Oh, what a tease! He repeats the process, kissing me up my thigh, and actually it feels as good as being touched. He reaches the apex of my other thigh and I nibble on my lip to keep me quiet. He kisses the side of my sex, sending tingles to the depths of my stomach. Then he licks me where I need him the most, and my breathing heaves. Ah! It feels good, so fucking good. He slowly moves his tongue up and down, getting me started, warming me up, and I'm already panting. His tongue on me like this, the feeling is indescribable. He licks me, and his lips close around my clit.

"Ah!" I cry out. Oh, I'm so sensitive. He sucks on my clit and the motions radiates throughout my whole body. Geez, I'm loving this. Mark starts to move his tongue on me, round and round, each stroke pushing me closer to the edge. I start to feel hot, and I can feel myself blush. Mark pushes his tongue inside of me, and I almost come instantly.

"Fuck!" I moan arching my back and balling my hands around the bed sheets. He moves his tongue in circles, rubbing it against the walls of my vagina. I'm starting to quicken. The pleasure is incredible, so strong. It radiates throughout my whole body, to my fingertips. I start to feel dizzy. All I can sense is the pleasure. Mark starts devouring me, literally. A mix of his lips and tongue and kisses that increase the tension.

"Mark!" I whimper, grabbing the ends of the pillow and pulling at it. It's too good, I don't know if I can take it. I'm going to come so hard, it's scary.

"Anh!" I moan, and Mark hums appreciatively, his thumbs drawing circles on my thighs as he holds me in place. The throaty sound sends vibrations to my core, and my eyes roll back. The sudden wave of pleasure leaves me speechless. My mouth is open but no sound comes out, and I screw my eyes shut. I reach down, and my fingers tangle in his hair. My hips start to move on their own, and I start to grind myself on his mouth. My body savors the sensation. It's so good. Mark devours me, licks me, and I can't help but thrust up to meet his movements, harder, faster. Mark hums again and I give up on myself, surrendering in front of the pleasure that makes my body roar as I come and come. My thighs tense on their own and my toes curl as all the nerve endings of my body scream in ecstasy. 

"Mark!" I cry out as my legs start to shake. I can't control anything anymore, my body is almost convulsing, and for a moment my vision is blurred. Slowly, the sensation vanishes, and I'm breathless. Mark kisses my navel, my hips bones and my belly button as he slowly crawls up to me. Still catching my breath, I tangle my fingers in his hair, preventing him from going higher. Getting the massage, he moves and lays next to me, wrapping me in his arms. He smells so good. I feel like jelly, I don't even have to strength to open my eyes, and my legs feel numb. Gosh, that was tiring.

"That was intense, wasn't it?" Mark asks, kissing my hair. I hum incoherently. That was... mind-blowing.

"Now I know what you like the most." He says, I believe the quick exhale of air from him is a chuckle. From all the things he did to me, that was definitely the one I loved the most.

"Abby?" I hear him murmur quietly. I try to reply to him, but too soon I find myself slowly drifting away.

I wake, wrapped up in Mark Tuan, his leg swung over me. I'm sprawled out under him, using one of his arm as a pillow, and he's still sleeping, nuzzling my neck, his steady breath tickling my skin, and his hand on my breast. I stretch my limbs; oh what a nap. Mark stirs next to me, and my eyes flutter open. Mark emerges from the crook of my neck and gives me a dazzling smile. 

"Slept well?" He asks before kissing my cheek, he lets go of my breast and pits his hand flat on my stomach.

"Like a baby." I reply, placing my hand on my belly on top of his.

"I'm not sure babies snore like you do but-"

"I do not snore!" I cut him off. I don't snore! But then it's been long since I slept well like this, I was so tired, maybe I could have snored. Mark chuckles and kisses my nose.

"Did I snore?" I ask quietly, and he laughs, but he shakes his head. Whew.

"You look very cute when you sleep." He says before kissing me.

"I had a very pleasant view." He says, his forefinger hitching my shirt up, and as I look down, I realize I'm still half naked.

"Oh, god." I groan, pulling my shirt down as I leap out of his bed. Mark chuckles at my reaction.

"Oh, come on. You're still embarrassed of being naked in front of me?" He asks, sitting up as I bend to pick up my panties.

"Well, not everyone is cut out like a Greek god, sorry." I reply, putting them on. Mark titles his head to the side and smirks.

"A Greek god, eh?" He says, proud and boyish, and I find him ridiculous.  

"You're saying I'm a Greek God?" He asks, slowly crawling to me like a lion towards its prey. His eyes lively and mischievous. I like playful Mark. I smile in apprehension of what he's going to do, and when I make a move to run away he grabs me, making me yelp. I giggle hysterically as he throws me on the bed, tickling my sides. 

"Answer me." He commands, pressing his fingers on my sides, and I laugh so much that I can't talk. He moves from my sides to my shoulders and my neck, and it's too much. I have to stop the torture if I don't want to pee my panties.

"Yes! Yes, Mark." I breathe, and he stops, giving me a satisfied smile. I soon realize he's on top of me, supporting himself on his hands, and I can't seem to figure out when he got there. I'm out of breath when he licks the inside of my lower lip. His actions send tingles straight to my center, and I almost want to moan. 

He kisses me, and his tongue strokes mine, slowly, tantalizingly, and it's enough to wake up that carnal desire inside of me. My tongue joins his in a sensual dance, and seeing how responsive I am, Marks starts eating my mouth out. His lips move faster against mine, aggressive, claiming my mouth as his, and my libido explodes. I fist my hands in his hair, gently tugging at it. Mark's lips move from my mouth to my neck, and I am breathless as his lips ghost over my scars. Mark presses his body onto mine, trapping me under his weight, and suddenly I can't breathe anymore. My whole body tenses up beneath him, and my fear comes back, ten times stronger.

"No." I say, pushing him away, and his actions cease immediately.  "I can't, I'm sorry." I whisper, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed and sitting up. We were doing so good, why did I have to ruin everything?

"It's okay, Abby." Mark says, putting his hands on my shoulders as I try to catch my breath.

"I'm sorry." I repeat, and he kisses my cheek.

"I said it's okay. Come, let's go watch TV."

-

"Do you know Snapchat?" I ask out of the blue as me and Mark sit on his couch, him sitting up straight with his legs parted and me using him as a pillow as we snack in front of an episode of Orange is the new black. My boyfriend has a Netflix account, I'm such a lucky bitch.

"Abby, I'm 26, not 62." He says distractedly. Mark taking silly selfies and sending it to his friends? The thought is funny.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask.

"It's been long, I don't use it often." He replies absent-mindedly. I take his phone on the coffee table and swipe through his apps, and I find the little ghost icon. I scroll down his contacts, he has tons of friends! I decide to snap a picture. I hold his phone at arm length, catching his attention. I smile at the camera and he kisses my cheek before I snap a picture of us. I type a heart as a caption and send it to all of his friends.

"Now every single of your female friends know you're taken." I pipe up.

"They already know, you silly thing." He says before kissing me. I check the time on his phone and sigh.

"I'll have to go now." I say and he sticks his lower lip out. He's pouting!

"Oh, no. Just one more hour." He purrs, pulling me to him so I lay on top of him. I kiss him because he's cute, but I can't let his cuteness fool me.

"It's almost eight, Mark." I reply, trying to get off him.

"Wait, wait, wait." He says, sitting up and tightening his grip around me.

"What?" I ask.

"Do you think things will get better with me?" He asks me. I sigh.

"Well, what do you think?" I ask sarcastically.

"She hates me." I explain.

"No, I'm sure she doesn't. She's just mad; she'll calm down." He says.

"I don't know. I know her, she hates me."

"Why do you say that? You're best friends. You're constantly chatting with her in my class."

"Bea is complicated. It's been two years since she had a boyfriend, and she's been giving Max a hard time for almost a year now, she's just so picky about boys. And yet she likes you. It's not just a crush, she must really really like you, and her anger must be proportional." I explain. If Bea says she likes him, then she likes him, she really likes him. And I understand how she feels, and deep down I know there is no chance she forgives me.

"Abby-" mark trails off, but I don't want to go to that subject.

"Mark, let's not talk about this." I kiss him.

"I'm glad you forgave me. I love you." I say, and he smiles to me.

"I love you too." He replies before kissing me.

"Can you drop me home?" I ask sweetly.

"You thought I would let you take the bus?" He says, and I smile. We get up and right before I open the door of his apartment I remember I haven't put my necklace on. I turn around, almost bumping into Mark.

"Are you looking for this?" He asks me, holding my beige choker in his hand. I let out a big sigh of relief, I didn't even know where it was. I try to take it from his hand but he moves it away. What is he doing? He gives me a wicked smile and buries his face in the crook of my neck, backing me against the door. He kisses my neck and runs his tongue all over my scars, sending tingles throughout my body. His teeth sink into my skin, and it's like an electroshock.

"Ah!" I cry out. Did he just bite me? It feels so good. Mark pulls away way too soon, and smiles down at me in triumph. I watch, breathless as he licks his bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. He's so hot, I want him. Mark takes my hand and flips it over, placing my necklace on my palm. Then he looks up at me and runs his index over one of my scars. "Don't hide them from me." He Barnard before kissing them one last time. I think I'm going to faint.

-

Mark and I hop in his car and he drives off to my house.

"What are you doing during spring break?" He asks me.

"Bea and I wanted to go on a road trip." I reply.

"Only the two of you?" He asks.

"Yeah."

"Who would have driven?"

"We both have our licenses, Mr. Tuan." I reply.

"You do?" He raises an eyebrow at me. He shouldn't underestimate my driving skills.

"How about a road trip just you and me?" He proposes.

"Where?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Where do you want to go?" He asks. I take time to think. A road trip? What excuse will I give my mom? And what of Bea wants to talk while I'm away? As much as I would love to go on a road trip with him, I don't think It's a good Idea.

"Mark, I would love to go, really, -" I trail off, and he understands immediately.

"It's okay, baby." He says, parking a few feet away from my house.

"It would be too complicated." I explain.

"I understand. It's okay, I swear." He says, then he takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. I give him a timid smile, I hope he's not too disappointed.

"Thank you for the ride. I love you." I lean towards him and kiss him.

"Love you too." He says. I make a move to open my door but he holds me back.

"Wait." He says, and I turn to him. He ruffles through his pocket. "Here." He says, handing me my beige choker. I immediately bring my hand to my neck and frown. He gives me wicked smile. Did I... Forget? I forgot to put my necklace back on. I glare at him. What kind of sorcery is this?!. He chuckles at my reaction. I take it from his hands.

"Thank... you?" I say carefully, and he laughs. He kisses my cheek and I smile, before getting out of his car.

I don't even have enough time to realize my mom is still not back from her dinner that the doorbell rings. I open the front door and Bea is standing in front of me, her arms charged with a carton box.

"Bea?" I frown at her. What is she doing?

"Here." She hands me the box, and from where I am I can see an old scarf I forgot at her house at least three years ago. She's giving me my stuff back? Like in a break up? I look up at her and she stares at me impassively.

"Bea don't be ridiculous." I say.

"Ridiculous?" She replies, obviously amused by my choice of words. "I'm not acting ridiculous, you're the one who ridiculed me." She says, pushing the box in my arms, forcing me to hold onto it. "You listened to me talking about him almost every day for days! You knew I meant it when I said I liked him, and yet you didn't tell me." She snarls. Does she think I was enjoying lying to her? I drop the box by the door.

"Bea, don't think I liked hiding it from you, I was dying to tell you. I just got scared, I didn't know what to do." I say to her. Yes, I did lie to her, but I didn't have any bad attention. I wasn't playing her, I don't know why she thinks this. Her eyes moisten with tears as she runs a hand through her curls.

"And now what? What do we do?" She asks. Well, I would love to hug it out and move on, but I understand quickly that it's none of her plans. I don't get her question.

"Do you think two girls who like the same guy can still be friends?" She asks me, and my world falls apart. No, we can't be friends if we both like the same guy. The thought saddens me in the most painful way, and I can almost hear my heart breaking. So, it's the end of 18 years of friendship.  Why did it have to be like this? I burst into tears, giving the answer to her question away. She starts to cry as well, but she looks more resigned than sad. She shakes her head sadly.

"It's all your fault, Abigail." She says, then she turns on her heels and leaves me. It's all my fault, she's right, I ruined everything.


	16. Chapter 16

My life is half complete now, Mark and I are good, better even, but I still terribly miss Bea. It’s too bad that spring break is over, school is going to be so painful without talking to her, and I told Mark we should stop seeing each other after class now that she knows why I stay almost every day. Seeing me and Mark together won’t make things better, that’s for sure. As I open my locker to get my economy book before the next period, my eyes ghost over the picture of me and her I stuck just above my cheer bag. I sigh. I can’t possibly believe our friendship is over like this.

“Hey.” A voice says next to me and I turn around to meet Henry. He is as blond as ever, and his eyes just as blue as in my memories. He cut his hair, he looks great, like a curly John Travolta in Grease. “Hi.” I smile at him, closing the door of my locker.

“You’re not with Bea?” He asks me, and I shrug sadly.

“Did you guys fight?” He asks me, and I nod.

“Why?” He asks, incredulous.

“It’s complicated.” I sigh.

“Explain to me then.” He nods his head to the side, and I follow him in the hallway. I make a grimace. I can’t tell him I’m dating Mark. I know he won’t tell anyone, but still, I should be careful. How can I explain it to him without telling the truth about Mark and I?

“You can tell to me, you know?” He says.

“I know.” I reply.

“You’ll tell me at lunch?” He proposes.

“We’ll eat by ourselves, I’ll give you my expert advice.” He says, and I raise my eyebrow at him.

“Expert in what? Girls problems?” I snort.

“Don’t underestimate me.” He says as we arrive in front of my classroom.

“See you at the cafeteria.” He says.

“Okay.” I reply, and he ruffles my hair before leaving. After the next period I meet Henry in the queue in the cafeteria. Today’s menu is chicken and fries, and there are apple pies for desert. Bea is eating with alone with Max, and my heart sinks a little. We used to eat with half of the cheer team. Henry and I sit at a table far away from Bea’s.

“Water pot.” Henry says, lifting his tray from the table. I don’t even have time to react, he thought about it first, I have to get the water. But it’s not fair, we’re only two of us.

“You’re an idiot. You could be a gentleman and go get it yourself.” I sass, getting up from my seat. Henry realizes he’s being a complete boor and gets up. He freezes, thinks for a moment, and sits back down.

“Nah, go get it.” He says, shaking his head. That bastard! I laugh, shaking my head at him. Ruffling his hair as I go, I walk across the cafeteria and go to the fountain. I take an empty pot and start filling it up with water. Suddenly, Mark appears next to me.

“Why are you eating alone with Henry?” He hisses, and starts filling his pot at the same fountain as me when there are two. I gasp and nervously glance around.

“I told you Bea couldn’t see us together!” I whisper-yell. “You didn’t tell me about that tête à tête.” He replies. Geez! Couldn’t he wait? I look for Bea in the cafeteria, and she’s watching us like a hawk. Crap! “What does he want?” Mark asks me.

“You don’t know when to stop, do you?” I hiss before turning on my heels and leaving with my water pot. I’m probably going to be in trouble for this, but I don’t care. As I walk back to our table, Henry gets up from his seat. He pulls my chair for me, and I frown at him.

“What are you doing?” I ask him, and he politely waves towards my chair.

“Being a gentleman?” He says. Oh, what an idiot. I crack up but sit down.

“Thank you.” I say, and politely bows. He’s such a comedian.

“So? What’s the problem with Bea?” He asks, sitting down in front of me.

“Did she tell you anything?” I ask him, and he shakes his head.

“It’s not something I can tell to anyone. In fact, I didn’t even tell Bea, that’s why she’s mad at me.” I explain.

“You don’t want to tell me?” He asks. I make an ugly grimace. I do want to tell him but I don’t want to take any risk.

“Okay, fine. Use images then.” He says.

“Images?” I repeat, and he nods, focusing on his chicken. I try to come up with an image to describe the situation.

“Let’s say there is this Cheer school that opened this year, we both think it looks amazing, that’s it would be great to be there, but none of us say we want to go. Let’s say I somehow ended up visiting that school and I started to like it. I applied for next year and after the inscriptions I was told I was accepted. Then I went to tell Bea but she told me she thought she actually wanted to go on that school. I got scared and I didn’t tell her about me but she discovered and now she’s more than mad at me.” I explain. Henry blinks at me a few times.

“Did you get the idea?” I ask him, and he blinks again.

“Yeah.” He says.

“I know I betrayed her, and I know I should have told her since the start, and I totally understand why she’s mad. I just hope she’ll calm down.” I reply.

“I think she’ll get over it.” He says.

“Really?

“With time, yes.” I nod slowly. Could she possibly forgive me?

“Eat, now.” He says, and for a second I think I’m eating with Mark. “Not hungry.

” I reply.

“You have to eat, Abigail.” He says, and he sounds too much like Mark.

“I know, I’ll just eat a yogurt.” I say, waving my vanilla yogurt in front of him. Oh, vanilla.

“And your pie.” He says.

“No, take it.” I reply. “No, you eat it. I’m not joking, Abigail.” He says dryly.

“Jeez, keep your hair on.” I mumble to myself.

“Eat.” He commands, and I obey. Why is everyone obsessed with me and eating?

-

Five minutes before the start of my next period Mark sends me a text telling me to go to the stairs in the scientific block. The high school is built on a slope, and the 1000 floor is the lowest, at this hour of the day, it’s deserted. He probably wants to talk about Henry in the cafeteria, he’s probably still mad, well, he’s going to be surprised because I’m mad too. I hate how pigheaded he is. You could ask him the smallest thing, something that won’t really bother him, if he felt the smallest irritation he could screw up everything and throw a tantrum. As I walk down the stairs, I see Mark leaning against the wall, watching me intently.

“What do you want-” I don’t even have the time to finish my sentence that he pins me on the nearest wall, his lips closing themselves onto mine. He kisses me hungrily, holding my face in his hands, he devours my mouth and his aggressiveness makes me want more. He pushes his tongue inside of my mouth, and I am lost, pulling his tongue for a sensual dance. Oh, what this man does to me. He can make me furious in a second and have me on my knees in one blink of eye. He pulls away, and I am breathless.

“You are the most maddening girl I’ve ever met.” He hisses through gritted teeth. All that tension is heady, intoxicating, almost exiting.

“I could say the same thing.” I breathe against his lips. He lets me go, and suddenly I’m back to reality. He takes a step away and sigh loudly, running both of his hands in his hair.

“Henry is just a friend, and that’s not a reason to talk to me in font of Bea, she saw us.” I try to reason him, but he ignores me.

“What did he want?” He asks me, and I sigh. This man is impossible, so mercurial.

“He wanted to know what was going on with Bea. I used images, he doesn’t know about us.” I say, and he nods. “Good.” He replies before cupping my face and leaning closer to me.

“Mark, no, you don’t understand, Bea saw us.” I say exasperatedly, pushing him away and avoiding his kiss.

“I know.” He says before burying his face in the crook of my neck, dropping a soft kiss onto my skin.

“Mark, I really care about her.” I murmur.

“I know, baby. But she’s acting like a child, let her go.” He mumbles against my skin.

“You don’t know her, of she says she like you, then she does, a lot. It had been two years since I heard her say she liked a boy, and I played her.” I reply, and he keeps silent, trailing his lips up and down my neck.

“Are you listening to me?” I whine, pushing him away so he would look at me.

“Listen, you can’t go back in time. You’ve apologized enough, if she wants to forgive you, she will. There is nothing you can do now.” He murmurs. Should I wait for her to come back? Is there really nothing I can do?

“Expect giving me a big kiss.” He says with a pout. Mark acting cute? Holy shit!

“A big kiss?” I giggle at him, and he nods cutely. I love cute Mark. I give him the big kiss he wants, and the bell rings as we pull away. I pout, I have to go to class now.

“Now get your cute little ass in class.” He says, smacking my behind. I yelp in surprise but obey.

“See you later.” I murmur before kissing his cheek, and with that I leave him and sprint to my next period.


	17. Chapter 17

Bea didn't go to class today, at noon I called Liz and she told me she was getting her wisdom teeth removed. It would have been so funny to see her puffed cheeks and hear a post-surgery nonsense. Since Bea is not there I decided to stay with Mark after class. After a good half hour of making out and cuddling I had to push him away because I have this Economy exam tomorrow I need to prepare. Mark and I are sitting at his desk, each of us working in silence. I can't focus, I have this thing I have to talk about with him. It's been working me up since this morning.

"Mark." I call, and he hums appreciatively.

"Can I go to prom?" I ask him.

"Since when do you need my permission?" He says without looking up from his copy.

"I mean, with a date." I say carefully, and he snaps his head at me.

"That's another story." He says. Okay, this is going to be hard.

"Please, Aurianne is going with Brody, and they're not dating, just best friends. I could go with a friend too." I propose 

"Abby, going to prom with a boy is a date. I don't want you to go on dates with anyone but me." He says, and if I didn't know how much he meant it I could almost have found him cute.

"Aurianne made it really clear with Brody. And they've been friends for years, they don't love each other. I'll make it clear too." I explain, and he scoffs.

"Oh yeah? And with who? Who's going to agree to be 'just friends' with you?" He asks me, and I frown. Is he saying no one wants to be friends with me?

"You don't see it, do you?" He asks, and I tilt my head to the side innocently.

"Every single boy in your class and in your section is crazy about you." He says. I take some time to register his words, and I can't help but crack up.

"I'm serious, Abby. They will all try to get in your pants." He says.

"That's just not true. I was thinking about Henry." I reply, and he rolls his eyes.

"Surely not." He says. He's suspicious about Henry?

"Why?" I ask, incredulous. We're talking about fucking Henry!

"He's the worst. That guy wants you so bad, it makes me have bad dreams." He says. I know wat this is, paranoia.

"No he doesn't, come on." I roll my eyes at him.

"Abby, I'm a guy too, I know what I'm talking about. You're not going to prom with Henry, end of the discussion." He says. He's so sure of himself. What authority does he have on me anyway?

"Since when do I need your permission?" I sass.

"Since you're being unreasonable." He replies.

"Unreasonable? You're the one being unreasonable." 

"No, I'm being realistic. Henry is the worst, he's always checking you out, always trying to touch you, always teasing you." I groan at his stubbornness. Of course he would find it too much, he's Mark Tuan.

"I don't believe you. I'll make it clear with him, and you'll see." I reply.

"See?" He says. What? What did I do?

"You see, you're defying me." He says.

"Why do you always have to make me mad? Can't you just listen to me for once?" He asks.

"Because you're wrong about Henry, he's not like the other boys. He's way more kind and considerate and smart, he'll understand." I reply.

"Why don't you date him while you're at it?" He scoffs. Okay, this is going to where. Maybe I should be more open for dialogue, let's find a compromise.

"Who do you want me to go to prom with, then?" I ask him.

"Not a boy." He says. I can't even compromise with this man!

"Fine, you win, I won't go." I give up, and he rolls his eyes.

"Come on, Abby, don't be like this." He says. I need a date to go to prom; no date equals no prom.

"No, listen Mark, I don't want to fight with you. I could go with Aurianne and Brody, but who would I dance with?" I reply. I won't have fun if we're the three of us.

"And in fact I don't want to have fun without Bea." I add bitterly.

"Is Bea going?" Mark asks, and I nod, diving back into my economy book.

"With Max." I precise. Mark keeps silent for a long moment, and I know he's almost giving in. He sighs loudly.

"Come here." He says. Yes! I get up from my seat and take place in his lap as he wraps his strong arms around me, holding me close.

"You can go to prom with Henry if you promise me two things." He sighs.

"One, you'll kick him in the balls if he ever tries anything." His words make me laugh. I know I won't have to do this, but the thought is funny.

"And two, you have to promise me you'll have a blast even without Bea." He says.

"How am I supposed to do that?" I ask quietly.

"You know, if she ends up never forgiving you, you'll remember your prom night and you'll only remember how you refrained yourself from having fun at prom for nothing." He explains. He's right, I won't prevent myself from leaving just for her, that's not what will bring her back

"Go to prom, keep Henry at distance, and have fun, okay?" He sums up, and I smile at him. I'm going to prom! Well, I still have to ask Henry first.


	18. Chapter 18

Henry agreed to go to prom with me, surprisingly he looked super happy when I asked him. I feel relaxed knowing I'm here with him. I'm in a total white outfit, wearing my white princess grown with a sweet heart cleavage and an open back, my white choker, white heels and a small white clutch. I made loose weaves in my hair and kept a discreet make up. I enter the gymnasium, clutching at Henry's arm, and the dancefloor is crowded. The lighting is low and the music loud and lively. Mark managed to be chosen as a chaperon for the party, and as soon as I walk in the gymnasium, my eyes desperately search for him. My eyes finally meet his. He's at the bar, a red plastic cup in his hand. He got a haircut and his coif is curlier. He's in a black suit, and he's wearing a motherfucking bow tie. My jaw drops as he smiles at me. Holy shit, he looks so hot. He pulls his phone out, and I'm guessing he's sending me a text, a few seconds later, his message comes.

_'You look stunning’_

I smile at his text, and type a quick answer.

_'You look hot with that bow tie'_

 I send it, and few seconds later he burst out of laughter. He laughs, shaking his head at me, truly amused. He looks so classy, I am truly amazing. My man looks so good, and he's mine.

"There's Aurianne and Brody." Henry says, clasping my hand. I nervously glance towards Mark. His smile as disappeared, and he's watching me intently. He makes the _'I'm watching you'_ sign, but addresses it to Henry. I just have the time to give him an apologetic shrug before Henry drags me away.

After an hour or loss of dancing, Henry takes my hand and leads me out of the gymnasium. The air is a little bit fresher in the corridor.

"It's so hot inside." I breathe, fanning myself with my hand. The corridor is deserted, it's calm, I realize I needed a break from all that partying.

"Are you having fun? Henry asks me, leaning against the small lockers for the different sections that use the gymnasium.

"Yes, thank you." I reply.

"For what?"

"I wasn't going to go at first; you saved my prom night. You're a really good friend." I reply, and he smiles to me, gently punching my chin like he always does.

"How come you didn't have a date?" I ask him.

"Does it surprise you?" He asks me.

"A lot of girls are after you." I say and he laughs loudly.

"I'm not kidding." I insist.

"I know you're not." He says, and there is something in his eyes... I've never seen him looking at me like that before. It makes me uncomfortable.

"Let's go back inside." I propose, turning on my heels.

"Wait." He says, grabbing my arm. I turn around to him, all of a sudden he takes my face in his hands and leans closer to me. Holy sit, he's going to kiss me!

"No." I breathe against his lips. He freezes instantly, and my whole body is alert. He's too close to me. Eventually he lets me go and pulls away, and he looks shocked.

"I was serious when I said we were only friends." I murmur quietly, looking down, anywhere but in his eyes.

"I thought..." He stutters. What did he think? I thought I made it clear!

"Henry, you're a really good friend. I didn't want to lose that, that's why I made it clear." I reply, and he sighs heavily. He runs his fingers over his forehead, taking a few steps away from me. I messed up, again.

"I'm so sorry." I say, and I mean it. He replies with a longer sigh, turning his back at me.

"If I knew you felt that way, I wouldn't have-"

"I get it, Abigail." He cuts me off.

"I'm sorry if I led you on, I never meant to."

"It's okay. Forget about what happened." He replies dryly.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm mad at myself.' He replies dryly. We stand like this for a moment, and Henry breaks the silence.

"I have to go." He says, and without turning around, without looking at me, he leaves. Suddenly, all my strength leaves my body. I feel like I'm suffocating, I need fresh air. Now I lost Henry. I rush outside, ignoring the worried call from Aurianne in the stairs that lead to the school. Tears spring at my eyes, making my vision blurry. I speed by a girl in a blue dress and I'm finally outside.

There is this place in the high school me and Bea often went to when we were bored. The 4000 floor is a little bit longer than the 5000 floor, which makes that you can get on the roof of the 4000 floor just by going through a window. It's away from indiscreet eyes and offers a mind-blowing view of LA. I sit there, alone, and I don't know what I'm doing. Mark was right, I don't want to tell him, I want to go home. If I leave now he'll ask me why, and I can't even try to lie to him, he knows everything, that's why he's always right; he's a genius. It's maddening, that's why I never listen to him.

"You don't have the right to be here, you know?" A familiar voice says from behind me. I turn my head and see Mark getting on the roof by the window.

"How did you find me?"

"Teachers come here to smoke." He replies. This place is not that secret. Mark sits down next to me.

"You look amazing." He says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I give him a small smile.

"What's going on?" He asks me.

"You were right, about Henry." I reply quietly.

"Did he try anything?" He asks.

"He tried to kiss me." I reply quietly, and Mark keeps silent. I don't want to see his reaction. He's probably scolding me in his head, telling me I'm too stubborn.

"I feel so stupid." I whisper to myself.

"No, you're not stupid. Stubborn, surely, but not stupid." He says.

"I'm always messing up. With Henry, with Bea, with you." I explain. Why do I always have to ruin everything? Tears springs to my eyes, and Mark sees them.

"Hey." He says.

"I'm such a loser." I mumble to myself, letting my head fall between my hands.

"Don't say that, Abby." Mark coos.

"You'll see, everything will be fine. I'm still here." He says, taking me in his arms. Oh, he smells divine.

"I love you." I whisper.

"I love you too." He says before letting me go. He wipes my tears away with his thumbs and kisses me softly.

"You have a party to watch." I remind him.

"I know."

"Go. I think I'll just go home."

"We didn't even dance together." He says. I would have loved to dance with him, but it's not possible not in front of everyone.

"I don't want to go back in there, and we can't dance together in there." I inform, and he hums, taking time to think. Coming up with an idea, he proceeds his phone from his pocket.

"I can find a compromise." He says. He browses through his phone, and after a moment, Ben E King's voice invades the space. I giggle as Mark gets up.

"Shall we dance?" He purrs, stretching his hand out to me. I shake my head at him in disbelief. This man is impossible.

"Get up, let me see you." He pleads, taking my hands and setting me on my feet. I dust my behind off and fix my dress, and when I look up at him he gives me a warm smile. He takes my right hand and makes me spin, and my dress flies as I do.

"You look lovely. White looks good on you." He says, pulling me to him. He places his hand on the small of my back, holding me close, and holds my hand in his.

"You're not too bad yourself." I reply as he starts to move to the soft melody. He smiles at my comment but keep silent, his eyes searching into mine.

"You really have magnificent eyes, have I told you that?" He murmurs. I love it when he says this.

"Five or six times." I reply jokingly, and he chuckles. He takes a step away from me, and I stretch my arm out, and he pulls me back to him while making me spin slowly. My back against his chest, he wraps his arms around me, still guiding the slow. He kisses my shoulder and nuzzles my neck, his breath tickling my skin, his arms keeping me close to him, and I would love the time to stop right now.

"Who did you go to prom with when you were in high school?" I ask him.

"I never went to prom." He says; the thought is surprising.

"Never?"

"I told you, the girls in high school didn't like me." He says.

"They would regret." I reply, and I believe the short exhale of air from his nose is a chuckle. Mark makes me spin again and pulls me against his chest, and the atmosphere changes between us. I close my eyes and he kisses me softly. All I can sense is the beautiful music, his lips on mine, and his love. This moment is magic, I feel like it's just us two is a totally different world. The music comes to an end, and I open my eyes to meet his.

"Abigail." A voice calls. I turn my head to the side and an azure princess is standing behind the window, green eyes and curly brown hair gone straight and wavy. What is Bea doing here.

"Can I talk to you one minute?" She asks me carefully. She wants to talk to me? Seeing me with Mark doesn't bother her? Shit, Mark! I immediately let go of him.

"Yes." I reply before glancing up at Mark. He nods, bends to pick up his phone, gets back up and kisses my temple.

"You owe me another dance." He whispers into my ear before walking away. Mark helps Bea through the window, giving her his hand, and I wonder if it's not inappropriate.

"I saw you going out, and you seemed a little bit sad." Bea says as she walks to me. Oh! The girl in blue, it was her. She's here because I was sad? She cares?

"Oh." I murmur, trying to hide my surprise. She's here to check up on me? And then what? Is she going to continue ignoring me?

"Is everything okay?" She asks me. I'm not sad anymore, Mark cheered me up like always, but I'm dying to tell her how much I feel bad.

"Yes. I mean, well..." I stutter. I nervously glance around, and my eyes land on her dress, I smile alone.

"You bought the blue one. You look lovely." I murmur, and she looks down at her dress.

"Thanks." She flushes. An awkward silence takes place between us. Is it the right time to talk?

"I don't think I like Mr. Tuan anymore." Bea breaks the silence first.

"What?" I ask, incredulous. How is that possible?

"I don't want you to think I came back because I don't like him anymore, in fact it doesn't matter at all." She says, and her words confuse me. I don't know what to think.

"I started to like Max, and he asked me out, and I said yes." She says. What? She's dating Max?! What the- finally!

"I wanted to snob you for the rest of my life but-" She stops midway. So, she had no intention to come back to me even now that she's not interested in Mark anymore?

"The fact that I'm not into your boyfriend any more doesn't change that you didn't think we were close enough to tell me you liked him. You lied to me so many times: when you stayed after class, when you went out on weekends, when you wore oversized shirts. And you didn't even react when I told you I liked him." She says. I've heard this so many times, and every time it makes me feel guilty.

"You know me, and you know how much it hurt me. But I'm here because no matter how much I want to hate you, when I saw you crying, I couldn't help this stupid need to check up on you." She says. I stop breathing. She still cares about me, that's awesome. Now what? I'm confused.

"I'm saying I love you, you stupid bitch." She urges me, laughing at me. Teats springs at my eyes.

"I love you too." I say, jumping on her and hugging her tight. She giggles and hugs me back. Oh, my Bea is back.

"You're not mad at me anymore?" I ask, pulling away. I'm crying like a baby.

"You should have told me." She scolds me again.

"I know. I'm sorry." I sob, and she giggles.

"You're ruining your make up." She says, cupping my face. I try to steady my breathing and stop crying; but I can't, I'm so happy.

"Come, let's fix your make up. Then we'll dance, and then you'll tell me everything about you and Mark, okay?" Bea proposes, and I nod through my tears.

 

After a small moment in the powder room me and Bea go hit the dancefloor together. Max who is dancing with friends smiles at us as he sees us, and Mark looked surprised but happy. Henry is nowhere to be seen, and I may sound like a bitch, but I don't care. After five or six songs, the styles changes, the electro beat turns into a slow. Bea and I look at each other awkwardly, we don't know what to do.

"Excuse me." Bea and I turn to see Mark standing in front of us.

"May I steal her from you for a short dance?" Mark asks Bea, and she smile. I flush. Why is he talking like this? It's... hot.

"Of course. I'm gonna find Max." Bea says before disappearing, leaving us alone. I watch her go, and when I look back at Mark he's raising hopeful eyebrows at me. I shake my head in disbelief.

"We can't dance together, Mark." I scold him.

"Not if I dance with other girls after. And Lauren is dancing with Brody." Mark says, pointing towards the bar. A few steps away, Brody is dancing with Coach Barnes. Oh. I wonder where Aurianne is.

"Okay but anyone but Annabelle." I warn. I know she'll want to dance with him, she'll even try to seduce him. He said he played her before we started dating.

"Got it." He says, stretching his hand out for me and I place my hand in his. He takes me to the center of the dance floor, easily making his way between the surprised eyes. Mark turn around and pulls me to him, gazing down at me with an impish smirk; we start to dance.

"I'm guessing Bea forgave you." He murmurs, making me smile.

"Yes, I'm so happy." I beam at him.

"It's good to see." He says, and I give him a warm smile. He plunges his eyes into mine, and I hope no one can tell what's going on.

"You look so pretty." He whispers over the music.

"And you are really handsome." I reply. I decide to break the eye contact and look over his shoulder, and I see Annabelle glaring at me directly above John's shoulder. I feign confusion but my subconscious is hugging herself with a satisfied smile. Suck it up, Ana, he's mine.

"You don't know how I would love to take this dress off your body." He whispers into my ear, making my insides twitch. Eeep! I would love him to take that dress off me. The thought is... divine.

"I'm sure you'll have other occasions." I flush, looking up at him.

"Don't give me that look." He says.

"What look?"

"The one that makes me want to kiss you." I flush at his answer. I would love to act natural with him.

"You can't know how bad I want to kiss you, right now." He says, and that aura radiating from him. I hope no one can see what's going on between us. 

"We won't hide forever." I murmur.

"I know. I love you."

"I love you more." I reply, and the music comes to an end. Mark lets me go but keeps my hand in his.

"Thank you for this dance." He says, bowing politely; making me smile.

"You're welcome." I reply and he smiles to me. Mark turn on his heels and Anabelle jostles me as she rushes to him but he offers a dance to Johanna. I make sure to watch her face decompose itself to the ground before leaving to find Bea. After a few dances, Bea drags me out of the dancefloor.

"Come on, let's go home. You have tons of things to tell me." She screams over the music.

"I have to say goodbye to Mark first." I reply as Max joins us.

"Max, can you bring the car to the front please?" Bea asks him as he wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her to him.

"We're leaving?" He asks, I we both can tell he doesn't want to leave. Bea pouts quietly and cutely, defying his resistance, and he melts instantly.

"Okay." He gives in. He boops her nose and kisses her cheek before disappearing. I try to spot Mark in the crowd. When our eyes meet he's dancing with a girl I believe to be Celia, a freshman. I nod my head towards the exist and he nods, leaving the gymnasium before us. Three minutes later Bea and me join him in the 1000 floor staircase, it's deserted.

"Everything okay?" Mark asks me, stalking over to me. 

"Yep." I reply as he wraps me in his arms and kisses my lips.

"I see things got better between you two, it's good to see." He says to Bea, and she smiles sweetly.

"Mr. Tuan," Bea says.

"Mark." e corrects her. She nods. She's not used to call him by his name.

"It was just a short period, I came back to my senses." She says. Back to her sense? You don't have to be crazy to like Mark. My man is totally likable. Mark laughs at her choice of word, and she flushes, realizing her mistake.

"I'm glad you did." He jokes, and she giggles. "We're going home, I have to tell her everything from the start." I explain to him. "Who is taking you?" He asks me.

"Max."

"Good." He says before kissing me.

"Of course!" A masculine voice exclaims, and it's surely not Bea's. The three of us snap our heads towards the door of the staircase and I can't believe what I'm seeing.

"Henry?" I breathe in horror. Henry is standing in front of us, his face ashen, his bow tie gone. Shit!

"Now, I understand." He says, stepping closer to Mark and me, and Mark tightens his grip around me as he does.

"When I arrived in this school, the boys told me you were inaccessible. They told me I had no chance, but they didn't know why." Henry says. The boys? I have a reputation among the boys? Henry doesn't seem to be himself, he's high, maybe drunk too.

"But now I understand. I sure had no chance in front of Mr. white teeth and square jaw." He says sarcastically, and I look up at Mark. He's watching him like a hawk, his jaw tense and his brow furrowed.

"Listen, Henry, I'm sorry I led you one. But, please don't talk about this to anyone." I try to reason him, but my words seem to make him mad. He scoffs at me but remains silent. Mark lets me go and walks to thin.

"Henry, seriously, you can't tell anyone." Mark insists. Henry is incapable of staying still, he paces up and down, breathing heavily, he looks like an angry bull. Suddenly, he punches Mark right in the jaw, but barely making him budge.

"Henry!" I scream as Bea gasps. Mark holds his face and checks whether he's bleeding or not. Then he grabs Henry by the collar of his shirt and violently pins him on the wall. Henry immediately seems to regret his actions and his eyes widen with surprise and fear. I've never seen Mark so violent before, and I immediately imagine the worst.

"Mark, no!" I plead, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away from Henry. I don't want him to fight.

"We're even, now. I won't tell anyone." Henry mumbles, making himself as small as possible against the wall. Why did he hit him if he was going to act like a little girl afterwards?

"Get the fuck out of here." Mark growls, and Henry immediately obliges. I sigh in relief. I know how impulsive he can be when he gets mad, and I'm surprised he listened to me, it must have taken him a lot of strength to hold himself back from beating the shit out of him.

"Did he hurt you?" I ask him, touching his cheek.

"No, I'm good. It's okay." Mark says, his face still hard. All of this is because of me. If only I had listened to him, none of this would have happened. I'm always causing so much problems to everyone.

"I'm sorry." I murmur quietly, and Mark's eyes soften, he gives me a warm smile.

"For what?" He asks, cupping my face. I'm glad he's not mad at me, I smile back at him.

"I'm glad things got better between you and Bea." He says, and I turn to her; she's smiling.

"Me too." I reply to Mark.

"Send me a text when you come home, I'll call you later." He says and I nod, and he kisses me softly.

"Love you." I whisper once he pulls away.

"Love you too." He replies, and I steal another kiss from him before leaving with Bea. We both get out of the scientific block and decide to take the longest way out of the school, using the lane for the delivery trucks.

"So? Tell me, how long have you been dating for?" Bea starts the conversation.

"Almost four months."

"Did you...?" She asks, and the innuendo in her voice leaves no doubt to the sense of her question.

"Not yet."

"But what happened?"

I frown at her question.

"I mean, he's everything you didn't like." She explains. I try to ask myself the question, what happened? What exactly made me fall for him?

"I don't really know either." I shrug. Will I ever get an answer to that question?

"When did it start?" She asks me.

"A little bit before Dallas. We bumped into each other, literally." I reply, and the memory of how he kissed me in that small alley makes me smile on my own. That was such a kiss...

"I think at first he was just trying to hook up with me." I explain to her.

"And it didn't scare you?"

"I wanted him too." I flush.

"Then how come you didn't do it already?" She asks.

"He wants to be on top." .

"Oh."

"Do you think you'll let him?" She asks.

"Yes, soon, I don't know." I shrug. Enough talking about me now, I have to keep up with her life too.

"And you and Max? The poor guy wants you since junior year." I say, and it was like pressing her chitchat button. She told me everything from the start, and when I asked her why she thought she didn't like Mark anymore, she said she thinks she kind of forced herself to like him. She said she knows she has a reputation and that people think she's a cold person and she's not able to love. She said it was really getting to her that she felt depressed about it and well, Mark was here. I feel bad for not seeing how sad she was, but I'm glad Max cheered her up. I see there are things only boyfriends can do, and Mark does so much for me, things I didn't even know I needed. But I still need my best friend, and I am more than glad she's back.

 


	19. Chapter 19

It's Saturday, my parents think I'm at Bea's once again, and I'm at Mark, getting prepared for a Netflix marathon. Orange is the new black is the first of the program and I'm excited, happy to finally spend some quality time with Mark, who I missed more than anything for the past weeks. I'm giddy with joy now than everything is alright in my life, now that Bea knows for me and Mark, now that she's with Max, now that I'm spending the night with Mark again. I can't help but feel relaxed and happy. Honestly we're not focusing on the show at all. We are sitting on the couch, facing each other, talking about what we want to do next weekend.

"I want you to meet my family." Mark says to me, taking me by surprise.

"Really?"

"My father is not back yet, but my mom is dying to meet you." His mom. There is a picture of her in his kitchen, she's beautiful.

"I would love to meet her too. Do you think she'll like me?" He chuckles at my question.

"Oh, Abby, she already does." He says. Does she?

"Will your brother be there too?"  
He nods.

"Let's say next weekend?" He proposes.

"Next weekend."

"You have to meet my friends too. You'll see, they're fun."

"I hope they'll have embarrassing stories about you." I tease, and he scoffs.

"I won't let them tell you, be sure about that." He says, and I giggle. I hope his friends won't listen to him. I wonder how crazy Mark can get with his friends. Meeting Mark's family... Wow. This is so... official. We are official, we are a couple. He is my boyfriend, he's my man, he's mine. This is so fun to say.

"What do you want to do tomorrow? We can go to San Diego again if you want. I'll take you shopping." Mark says, pulling out of my reverie. Shopping?

"Now, you're talking to me." I reply, and he laughs and kisses me. He kisses my cheek, my jawline, and starts going own my neck.

 This is getting interesting. He kisses a spot on my neck, a dangerous zone that makes me keen. He runs his tongue over the same spot, sending tingles straight to my core, and something wakes up inside of me. He softly bites the very same spot, and the effect is immediate, my libido explodes, and I moan. Mark pulls away and smirks at me. That bastard knows wat he's doing. I hate that, but fuck it, I need him. Mark takes my head in his hands and kisses me hard, his lips claiming mine as his. His tongue invading my mouth, exploring, dominating. My tongue joins him in a battle I take no time to lose, and his mouth possesses me, and I love. His lips still on mine, he unclasps my black choker and tosses it away. Releasing my mouth, he buries his face in the crook of my neck, and his lips ghost over my scars, peppering kisses, his tongue flicking against them.

"Mark, please." I breathe. I need him to do something, now. I'm aching for him.

"What do you want? My fingers or my mouth?" He replies between two open mouthed kisses on my neck. This is so obscene, I moan.

"You." I breathe, and his actions cease immediately. He gazes at me, his brows furrowed. 

"I want you." I repeat, but he doesn't budge. His eyes search into mine, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. I lean forward and kiss him. Mark replies to my kiss and relaxes against me, and I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. His tongue flicks against mine, and I let myself fall on the couch, pulling him down with me.

Mark is on top of me, immobile and taken aback. His surprised eyes glued on mine, he stares down at me. I reach up and caress his face, his beautiful face. Dark hair, brown eyes, he looks nothing like Liam. I pull him down to me and he kisses me. His lips, they don't feel like Liam's. Mark relaxes in the kiss, pressing his body against mine. His tongue glides over mines, seeking, exploring, and I love. He moves his lips to my neck, his hands roaming over my body. He kisses my neck languorously, sending waves of pleasure everywhere inside of me.  It's not Liam, it's Mark, he's making me feel good, and I want more. Suddenly, the bell rings, and Mark freezes. Oh, no!

"Damn it." He mutters under his breath. Geez, we were about to do it! He sighs again, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"Go." I sigh, and he obliges. Mark gets up from the couch and I do the same. I'm hot. While Mark walks to the door I walk to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I don't know who's there, but that person ruined the moment. At least I know I'm ready now. We're going to try again later, it's going to be great. As I grab a glass, I hear Mark open the door.

"Hey!" Multiple masculine voices exclaim. Guys? How many are they? I briefly turn around, but I can't see anything.

"What are you doing here?" Mark asks as I get some water from the door of his fridge.

"We wanted to meet the girl. Let us in!" One of them replies. It must be his friends. How did they know I was here? Okay, I'm meeting his friends; I hope they'll like me. I wear my brightest smile to greet them and turn around. A tall, brown haired man is walking to me with a bright smile. His lips are darkened by tobacco, and he has the greenest eyes ever. His face is familiar, too familiar. I freeze on the spot, unable to make a move. For a moment I examine the possibility of being dreaming, but it's too real.

"Hi, I'm Liam. Nice to meet you." He says, taking another step towards me, smiling warmly, and stretching his hand out to me. His actions make me jump, and I let my glass go. It breaks on the floor with a loud noise, and everyone goes silent. He's here, in front of me, and I can't move, I am petrified.

"Don't approach me." I articulate, but the fear is clearly audible in my voice. I remember what I told Mark when he told me Liam was still in town: I don't care. Am I being punished for this? What am I going to do? I have to keep him at distance. I want to run away, but I can't move.

"Abby, what's wrong?" Mark asks, walking to me. I let him walk to me, he can approach me. Not Liam, not him. Liam takes another step towards me, his brows furrowed, he's obviously confused. I stiffen some more.

"Don't approach me." I repeat. Liam doesn't seem to understand what's happening. He doesn't recognize me. He doesn't recognize the girl he fucking raped! I know I had red hair back then, but he fucking abused me!

"Abby, what is it?" Mark repeats, gently shaking me. I don't tear my eyes off Liam, I need to watch his every move.

"It's him." I breathe. Hot tears spring to my eyes, and I start to shake. Mark frowns. He doesn't understand. Mark is friends with the man who raped me. My whole body is stiff and petrified, and I can barely speak. I have a big lump in my throat, and I'm struggling to breathe.

"It's him. He... He... Liam. " I mumble incoherently.

"What?" Mark says, turning to his friend. He doesn't understand either. Liam keeps looking at me, staring intently. Suddenly, his eyebrows cease. He understands, he recognizes me. His eyes widen.

"You're the girl from the Bel Air party?" He asks, his voice shaking. I don't want to hear his voice, his voice gives me nightmares. Liam takes another step towards me.

"Don't approach me!" I scream, and he freezes. Two other men are watching the scene, they are frozen as well, confused too. I can't see Mark's expression, but he's silent. Liam mutters incoherent things. He's lost. He's meeting the girl he raped two years ago again, sober this time, and the first thing he says is:

"I was drunk."

Mark is a genius, he understands immediately.

"Son of a bitch!" He screams, and his fist flies to Liam's jaw. Liam stumbles back and falls to the ground, and Mark hovers on top of him. One of his friends, a brown haired guy in a snapback rushes to them and tries to hold back Mark who starts to repeatedly hit Liam. Mark yells, swears, punches, he looks like a beast. His friends try to reason him, but Mark doesn't stop, he's going to kill him. It feels like an electroshock, and my limbs wake up. I run away from the living room, rushing to the bathroom inside Mark's room. I lock myself up and sit down on the floor, leaning against the door. Mark is... Mark was friends with the man who raped me. Why didn't it occur him when I told him his name?

_He is not the only Liam in LA. And who would immediately think of his friend?_

He didn't even recognize me, even when Mark told him about me. He knew about me, he didn't recognize me.

All I can hear is horrifying muffled screams, from Liam, maybe from Mark too. He's going to kill him, he's going to kill him. I've never seen him like that before, it was scary. I'm scared. I hate angry Mark, angry Mark is dangerous. I can tell his friends are trying to stop him. I block my ears with my hands and press as hard as I can, I don't want to hear, I don't want to be here, let me go away, make it stop, please... Mark, please. There is a loud bang, and then nothing. Silence takes place, I let my hands fall down. I don't know who's here, I don't know if they left, I'm scared; What if Liam managed to kick them out to be left alone with me? What happened? I keep silent and listen to the silence, hoping to hear a sign of life. I hear steps, coming closer and closer to me, fast, nervous steps getting closer and closer, I stop breathing. There is a knock on the door, I jump. Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes, who is it?

"Abby?" It's Mark, it's Mark's voice. I want to feel relieved, but somehow I can't. I'm still scared, I'm frightened. I start to breathe again, because I have to. He pulls the doorknob down and I gasp, do I want him to come in? I don't know, I'm scared.

"Baby, come out, please." He softly knocks on the door, and I bring my hands to my mouth, crying as silently as I can. I don't want to come out, I don't know what's outside.

"It's me, Abby. It's just me, he's gone." Can I trust his words? _Isn't it what I've been doing for the past months?_

"Don't run away from me." His words feel like a punch in the stomach. Am I running away? Am I that cowardly? Am I that weak? No, I'm not. After what I've been through, being scared is not being weak, it's normal. Mark wanted me to be fearless, he wants to help me, I want to be fearless.

"Abby, open the door. Please, let me in. He's gone."

He slowly walks to me, taking small and cautious steps as I stay where I am. He reaches my level and more tears rush down my face silently, I try not to tremble. Why is he crying? He cups my drenched cheeks with his hands and leaves a small gap between us, and to my surprise, I need him closer. His lips part as a single tear falls from his eye and runs to the ground; he shakes his head. "I'm so sorry." He whispers and I grab the material of his T-shirt, but I don't dare pull him closer. What is he sorry for? What did he do to Liam?

"I'm so sorry, baby. Please, don't hate me." His thumbs caress my cheeks tenderly. Why would I hate him? My head fumes with questions. What is he sorry for?

"What?" I ask quietly. He sniffles and shakes his head some more, his eyes are darkened with sadness.

"I should have protected you, I want to protect you. I couldn't... and he hurt you. I'm sorry." My heart sinks at his words. He wishes he was here to protect me when Liam raped me, he feels guilty. But why? He knows he couldn't have done anything, he knows that, I know that. How can he even think about associate himself with my past? Mark is the only exception, I let him love me and I love him. I've made so many exceptions with him, why doesn't he see it? I hate seeing him like this, I don't want him to feel like this. I kiss him once to sooth him, and it seems to work because I feel him genuinely relax against me, and he kisses me back and kisses me tenderly, gently, slowly....

When he pulls away, he connects our forehead and closes his eyes, sighing loudly.

"Is he gone?" I ask quietly, and he nods. I feel relieved. He's gone, that's what matters the most.

"None of this is your fault." I murmur, and he sniffles.

"I can't believe I was friends with him." He says, and my heart sinks a little. It's official, I don't want to run away from him. He is emotionally connected with me, he cares about me, what touches me touches him.

"Mark you did nothing wrong. You're perfect, you're all I could have dreamed of." I reply, pulling him to me, and he takes me in is arms. I run my hands up and down his sides, and I feel something moist under my touch. Mark pulls away, intrigued, and I look at my hand. Blood. I look up at Mark and his mortified. I lift his arm and looks down at his side, there is a huge stain on it. It's not his blood, thank god.

"I need to take a shower." He whispers hungrily, and I can see him shivering.

"Sure." I reply, leaving him alone in the bathroom.

I look down at my hand. Liam's blood, on my hand. How much did he bleed? I've never seen Mark so angry and violent before but he can't possibly kill someone. I am amazed by myself. I have a blind faith in Mark. I go to the second bathroom to wash my hands and my face. I take a look at myself in the mirror, my cheekbones are poking out of my face, my eyes are too big and I have dark circles. Geez, what a day. I have to get a grip of myself. Liam didn't do anything to me, but it is perturbing to know Mark was friends with him. He obviously isn't anymore, there is no chance this happens again. Come on, Abigail, don't let that get to you. I can't let that get to me anyway, Mark looks even more upset than me. I didn't expect this reaction from him, it's hard to see but I realize at the same time how much he loves me. What happened, instead of making me run away, broke down all my barriers. I walk back to the bathroom in Mark's room. His clothes are pooling on the floor, and the water is running. I strip silently until I'm fully naked. Without a word, I slide the door of the shower cab open, and Mark turns around, wide and surprised eyes glued on me. I close the door behind me and we stand in silence for a moment. That wasn't how I imagined our first shower together, but I think we need each other the most right now.

I'm moving forward instead of running away, I'm not a coward. I take a step closer to him, and the water starts to soak my hair, making it heavy and flat. Mark doesn't move his eyes from mine and takes my face in his hands, his thumbs caressing my cheeks tenderly. I needed a shower too, the water is soothing, I feel relaxed. I close my eyes as Mark brings my hair back with both of his hands, clearing my face. Then he takes me in his arms, and he holds me close, so tight. He sobs in the crook of my neck, and I repeat how much I love him until he calms down.

After our shower Mark is in another state of mind. He went from angry to sad and now he's pensive. We're both in the bathroom, wrapped in white towels, drying our hair. Mark is leaning against the sink while I'm facing the mirror. He's obviously absent. He's been drying his hair for two minutes now, and he has a short haircut. His eyes are blank and I don't know what he's staring at. It's as saddening as seeing him cry.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask him, and he doesn't reply.

"Mark?" I call, waving my hand in front of his eyes, and he snaps out of his reverie.

"Hm?" He says, looking up at me. I snort; he was gone so far. It's a sensation I know so well.

"I'm sorry." Mark says realizing he was somewhere else. He drops his towel next to the sink and crosses his arms over his chest. Staring at the ground, I can see him drifting away again.

"Your skull is prickling, right?" I ask him, and he looks at me, confused.

"You're wondering how you could have been friends with this guy, you're trying to remember if there was any sign your friend had raped a girl before, you’re probably imagining me getting raped, by him. You're wondering why he didn't react when you showed him my picture, you're seeing again the scene that just happened, you're trying to figure out what you could have done even if you know there was nothing you could do. You're thinking about so many things at the same time that you don't even know what you're thinking about." I say, and I can tell from the surprised look he gives me that I'm right.

I've been like him, I've been asking myself so many questions. Why me? Was it my clothes? Am I the only one? It was haunting me day, and night, I kept replaying that night in my head over and over again. I've lived like this for two years. And then I met him. And he taught me how to leave my past behind and embrace my future, he taught me how to take small steps towards him.

Something my grandmother used to tell me comes back on my head:  
_Sometimes when the past shows back like a big puddle of mud, you have to take bigger steps, and jump over. Otherwise you step in the puddle, and it turns into a pool, an ocean. And you drown again._

Now I have Mark, and we are two, everything is easier. But what do we do if we're both drowning? How are we going to get through this? He shouldn't be drawing with me.

"I couldn't protect you from your past, when it was what I wanted the most." Mark says to me, and his voice hints a deep disappointment and a glimpse of pain. His attentions go straight to my heart, but I know he can't erase what Liam did to me. It's my past, not his, he shouldn't be stained with it, he shouldn't associate himself with it.

"You can't protect me from my past, Mark. It's there, always. But you're doing so much more than protecting me." I reach out and caress his face.

"If you weren't there I would probably be locked in my room right, and I would never ever get out of there. I'm scared but if I let that get to me, it could ruin everything." I explain, and his eyes light up with alarm.

"Everything we have, everything we built. I don't want things to be like before." I murmur. His eyes are panicked, and he shakes his head nervously.

"I don't want you to leave me." He whispers softly, his voice weak and shaky. He shows me am expression I've never seen on him before, betraying an emotion I didn't know he could feel, pure fear. Suddenly I'm overwhelmed with emotion, and tears spring to my eyes.

"I'm don't want to leave you, Mark. I need you." I reply.

"I'm here." He takes my face in his hands.

"I need you." It's almost a sob.

"I'm here." He repeats softly, kissing my forehead.

Taking both of his hands in mine, I place them on the hem of my towel. He looks up at me in surprise, his eyes are asking me if I'm sure; I nod. His eyes search nervously into mine; he's thinking. For the first I feel like he must have felt with me. _Don't overthink this, Mark..._

His eyes never leaving the blue of mine, he undoes my towel, letting it pool at my feet. I'm cold. I stand immobile, staring into his eyes. Mark waits again, his eyes searching, looking for the slightest sign of hesitation on my face. He places his hands on my hips and pulls me to him, and he buries his face in my neck. His lips slightly parted, he trails them over my skin. My neck, my shoulder, my collarbone... His soft breath blowing between his parted lips itself is enough to make me feel warm. He stops between my breasts and kisses me there, for a long time. Locking his eyes with mine again, his hands run down to my thighs. He picks me up and I instinctively wrap my legs around him. He carries me out of the bathroom, to his bed, he's going to make love to me, I'm scared, but that's what I want.


	20. Chapter 20

"Promise me you'll tell me to stop." He orders, wanting to hear me say it.

"I promise."

Mark slowly nods, then he kisses me. Slow at first, setting a gentle rhythm, and I let myself relax and reply to his kiss. Then he kisses me more aggressively, pushing his tongue in my mouth, immediately subduing me, and my libido explodes. His lips move from my mouth to my neck, his lips ghosting over my scars and sending tingles deep down inside of me. He trails his tongue across my biggest scar, and I have to fight back a moan. Then he takes my swollen skin between his teeth, and it feels like an electroshock.

"Ah!" I cry out loudly. I'm so sensitive there, it feels good. Mark kisses me downer, his tongue flicking against my collarbones, and he stops between my breasts.

"You don't know how much I love your body." He whispers, raking both of my breasts in his hands. I arch my back, giving more for him to touch, and he kisses one of my nipple.

"So beautiful." He breathes before kissing the other one. His tongue swirls around my pleasure button, and he teases the other one with his hand. Licking, nibbling, sucking, twisting, stroking, caressing, savoring... My nipples harden and elongates under his expert touch, and I squirm under him, I love it when he touches me there. Only him can touch me. Mark kisses me down my belly and stops at my navel, running his tongue across my pubis.

"Ah! Please." I moan. I'm distress down there, I can't take his teasing. Mark kisses the inside of my tight, his lips following a tortuous oath to my center. Closer and closer, and I build with anticipation. His teeth sink into my skin as he gently bites the apex of my thigh.

"Ah!" I groan in pleasure. He kisses me where I need him the most, once, softly, his lips brushing against my skin. He kisses me here and there, still teasing me, and I squirm, helpless.

"Mark...please." I whine, and Mark obliges. His tongue starts exploring me, up and down, round and round greedy, fast, and the motion is addicting.

"Ah!" I cry out, reaching down and tangling my fingers in his hair. My hips start to move on their own, up and down, savoring, exploring. I start to build, my body stiffens and a familiar crescendo of pleasure starts deep down my belly, but it's not what I want.

"More." I mewl, my body bowing in front of the exquisite pleasure.

"More?" He kisses the apex of my thigh.

"Please." I beg. Mark crawls back up to me and kisses me hard, his tongue dancing with mine again. I buck my hips, searching for more, more of him. I find an electrifying friction; my groin against his, I can feel him straining against my core. His hard for me, he wants me, and I want him with all of the cells of my body. Mark sits up and with a swift movement, unwraps his towel, tossing it to the side. He springs free, and my heart starts to race, but not with fear, I am on fire. Mark kisses me again, my fingers sliding over the muscles of his back. I feel his erection teasing my entrance, then he slowly pushes himself into me.

"Ah!" I cry out as he rips through my virginity. It hurts a little, and it's uncomfortable at first. Mark stills, gazing down at me, his mouth slightly open. He leans down and kisses me softly, giving me time to acclimatize to the feeling of him inside of me. My teeth tug at his lower lip as he pulls away, and his eyes darken instantly.

"Again?" He offers, his voice not louder than a whisper.

"Yes."

He withdraws from me and enters me again, all the way, deep. The way he rubs against my walls, the friction, it's electrifying. It feels so good, and my mouth hangs open in a silent moan of a new pleasure.

"More?" His voice is tighter than before.

"Don't stop." I plead.

And he doesn't. Propping himself on his elbows, he presses his weight on me, pinning me down, and thrust in and out of me. He's slow at first, gentle, the feeling is alien, but I start to grow accustomed to it, worse even, I want more of this.

"You're so tight, baby." Mark groans as he speeds up, and the friction inside of me starts to create sparkles in the depths of my belly.

"Ah!" I moan as he moves more boldly, my hips moving tentatively to meet his languorous movements. Mark's lips close themselves on mine and my tongue instinctively seek for his. I melt into the steamy kiss, my fingers tangling in his hair as he pleasures me with his threads, his touch, his kiss, his love. I grow more and more hungry for more, the pleasure is delicious. I circle my hips, settling a relentless rhythm between us. Mark pulls away, and he is breathless.

"Oh, Abby." He moans against my lips, his voice shaky and tight. I close my eyes, and suddenly I'm all sensations. His perfume, his hands on me, his lips ghosting over my skin, this is nothing like a nightmare. I didn't know it would feel this good, I didn't know I would love this so much. All I can sense is the sensation deep inside of me, Mark and I making love. I can feel it building deep down inside, and I stiffen as Mark thrusts on and on.

"Yes!" I moan in ecstasy. I'm loving this, my whole body is savoring the moment, and I can feel a sheen of sweat on my forehead. Something witches inside of me, and I stiffen some more.

"Oh, Mark I'm gonna..." I moan desperately, fisting my hands in his hair.

"Come for me, Abby." He hisses into my ear, and his words are my undoing. My orgasm washes over me and I explode, breaking into pieces beneath him.

"Oh, baby!" Mark cries out as he finds his release, and he collapses on top of me. We lay here for a moment, the post-orgasmic silence letting us catch our breath. Mark trails soft kisses in the crook of my neck as my body slowly returns to a peaceful calmness. Mark brings his face to mine and gazes down at me and tucks strands of hair behind my ears. He slowly brushes his nose against my, slowly, up and down.

"Thank you." He murmurs softly. Thank you? Did he consider this as some kind of present? He's so sweet, my heart swells and suddenly I'm submerged by emotion, overwhelmed by the love I feel for him. I'm at loss of words, what just happened was... magical.

"Why are you crying?" He asks, his face painted with worry. I shrug and dash my tears away. I don't even know why I'm crying.

"Am I that bad?" I giggle through my tears, and he smiles to me.

"You were perfect." I reassure him, reaching up and caressing his face. He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles, then he leans towards me and kisses my forehead, pulling out of me at the same time. I wince at the unfamiliar sensation. Mark lays down next to me and I snuggle against his chest, wrapping myself in the bedsheets.

"Don't cry. I love you so much, my brave girl. You're so beautiful." He kisses my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my eyes, and pulls me to him, holding me close. I am exhausted, today's events worn me out, but I'm warm and safe in Mark's arms, and I peacefully drift away in his embrace.


	21. Chapter 21

It was his plan. Liam knew I was Mark's girlfriend, he patiently waited to meet me, at Mark's apartment, so he could abuse me again.

I'm begging him... Not again... Not again... He doesn't listen... The same knife... It hurts...

I'm screaming for help, calling Mark's name on top of my lungs, but he's nowhere to be seen. He's not there, he's gone.

"Abby!" A familiar voice calls from afar. I look around, but Mark is not there.

"Christ, Abby! Wake up!" I open my eyes and sit up abruptly, and the first thing I see is Mark, kneeling in front of me. I am naked, in his bed, the small lamp is on, and Mark looks worried.

"You were gone..." I sob, hot tears rushing down my face uncontrollably.

"I was just getting a glass of water, I'm here." Mark says, and I notice he's changed into sweats, without a second thought, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him.

"Hey." Mark mumbles against my lips, but I ignore him. I need to feel him, know he's there, all at once. I need to be sure this is not a dream, that he's here with me. Mark grasps my head and pulls away, leaving me breathless.

"Easy, baby." He coos, gazing at me. My breathing is erratic, I can't seem to slow down my lungs. I'm out of breath. I think I'm going to have a panic attack. I can't stop crying, and I can't breathe.

"Breathe." Mark says, his thumb caressing my face. I try to take deeper breathes, trying to catch a steady rhythm.

"Slow, Abby, slow." He murmurs softly. In and out... In and out... slowly...

"Slow, baby." He kisses my cheek, the feeling of his lips on my skin is soothing.

"There." He whispers, kissing the corner of my mouth.

"There." He repeats, tucking my hair behind my ears. I lean in and curl myself against his bare chest, and he wraps his arms around me.

"There you go. I'm here now." He whispers, gently stoking my hair. We stay like that for a moment, and I almost start to drift away. His embrace is warm, soothing, I feel so safe around him. I sniffle, realizing the scene I just made because of a stupid nightmare.

"Sorry." I mumble, pulling away from him. I feel so embarrassed.

"For what?" He giggles, bemused. I mumble an incoherent answer I'm not sure to understand, and he chuckles. I wipe my tears once more and sniffle as he kisses my forehead affectionately.

"Are you okay?" He asks me, taking my face in his hands, his thumb stoking my damp cheeks. I nod silently.

"I left the kitchen light on, I'll be back in a second." He says, and I nod again. He kisses me quickly and leaves the room. I decide to cover myself and throw on one of his T shirts and panties. When Mark comes back in the bedroom, I'm waiting for him in the middle of the bed. Mark smiles as he sees me, but I'm too tired to ask him why. He gets in the bed next to me and holds his arms open.

"Come here." He says, and I curl at his side, making myself as small as possible so he can wrap me in his arms.

"Leave the light on, please." I murmur as he kisses my hair.

"Okay, sleep now." Mark says, and I obey immediately, drifting away once again.

-

I wake, wrapped up in Mark Tuan. He's all over me, his arms around me, his leg swung over mine, and his breath tickling my neck. I stretch beneath him, but he doesn't budge. He's still sleeping peacefully, his lips slightly parted, and his chest rising and falling as he breathes. For the first time, he actually looks like a teenager.

I give his lips a small peck, but he doesn't move. I kiss him again, and he stirs, frowning and turning his head away from me. He moves so he's lying on his back, and I have to prevent myself from giggling. He goes back to sleep, his brow still furrowed. Gah! His annoyed face is so cute.

I snuggle closer to him and kiss his cheek repeatedly, tangling my leg with his and stroking his bare chest up and down. He turns his head to me as I keep kissing him, and he starts kissing me back, making me smile against his lips. I giggle as he stretches across me again, wrapping his arms around me and swinging his leg over me.

"Hi." I mumble against his lips, and he smiles.

"Hi." He replies, peppering kisses all over my face. He kisses my cheeks, my nose, my forehead, my eyes, my neck, his lips are all over me.

"Slept well?" He asks me, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

"Like a baby." I reply. He keeps silent for a moment, and then he speaks again.

"Are you okay?" He asks me, and I move so he can see me frown at him; I don't understand his question.

"After yesterday night's events." He precises. Well, he seemed kind of shaken too, I wonder if I should ask him the same question.

"Well, it depends which event you're talking about." I'm surprised I'm still able to act playful, but the impish smirk he gives me doesn't discourage me. He finally opens his amused eyes.

"Oh Abigail, it's stronger than you, isn't it?" He's smiling against the skin of my neck.

"Tell me, how do you feel?" He insists, and I run through my feelings. How do I feel?

"Shaken, upset..." I trail off, shrugging. I gaze down and Mark is looking up at me, giving me all of his attention. I melt inside as I contemplate his beauty. Mark Tuan, the man who knows me more than anyone else, who embraces me and my scars, heals them and loves them, helped me find peace, the one who makes love to me, laying half naked, wrapped around me and looking up at me way too sweetly for me to handle, I can't possibly feel scared in front of this sight.

"Happy?" I pipe up, but it doesn't make him smile. My inner me rolls her eyes.

"I'm fine, Mark, really."

"You should make another deposition." Mark says, and the idea makes me shiver. We were doing so good, why did he have to bring this up?

"Mark..." I whine. He shifts on his elbow so he's towering over me.

"What happened yesterday could've been avoided." He says to me.

"I know, but you're here, and it's like it never happened." I reply and he sighs.

"I need to forget." I reply. Mark purses his lips, and his eyes search into mine sadly. I don't want him to be like he was yesterday.

"Make me forget, make love to me." I plead, pulling him closer to me.

"Will it become a habit?" Mark smirks, and I frown.

"Asking me and allowing to make love to you to get away. It's really low, using sex as a weapon." He says.

"Not if you enjoy it." I reply.

"I love making love to you." He says, peeling the bedsheets off me. I am only wearing a T-shirt of his and my panties, hand his chest is bare. 

Mark buries his face in my neck and starts to kiss me here and there, his lips ghosting over my skin. He puts his hand behind my knee and pulls me closer to him, sliding a leg between mine.

He kisses my jaw, my cheek, and then my lips, his hand stroking my bare thigh. He kisses me tenderly, his lips slowly moving against mine. Then he gets more aggressive, and he tugs harder on my lips, claiming them as his. I reply to his kiss, as hungry and needy as him, my fingers curling into his hair. He groans inside of my mouth and starts kissing my neck again, trailing his tongue along my scars, making my libido explode. His teeth sink into my skin, and I cry out.

"Ah!" I moan. I'm so sensitive there, and he knows how to touch me, he's doing me so good. He hovers on top of me, laying between my parted legs, his erection straining against my core. His lips close themselves over mine again, and I am lost.

He runs his hands up and down my sides, sliding his hands under my T-shirt and hitching it up enough to reveal my breasts. His fingers brushing my breasts, he doesn't touch me and I'm squirming in anticipation. I want him to touch me there, I love it when he touches me there.

His lips follow a tortuous path down my body, down my neck, between my collar bones, and he finally kisses my breasts. He circles his tongue around my nipple, making sure not to touch it, and it drives me crazy.

"Mark..." I moan, and he takes my breasts in his hands and starts to play with them, and I love the sensation. He bites one of my nipple, and the effect is immediate.

"Ah!" I moan as the motion radiates throughout my whole being, sending tingles right to my core. His erection pressed against me, I start to look for more friction; my hips start to move on their own. I can feel myself getting wet, and I know I'm ready, and I want more, but Mark is still toying with me, teasing me.

"Mark, please." I plead, running my hands in his hair. Mark takes my hands and pins them above my hand, locking our fingers together. I'm at his mercy, desperate for him, but he doesn't seem to want to take it to the next level. I start to grind myself on him desperately, finding an electrifying friction that radiates inside of me, but I still need more.

"Mark, please... Ah... Anh!" I mewl. His erection against mine, I'm wet, I want more, but I just might come like this as well.

"I know, Baby." Mark coos, pulling away from me. He sits up and I watch as he pulls his sweats and boxers down, letting his erection spring free. I've never seen something as erotic and stimulating as this.

Leaving his clothes hanging at his mid-thighs, he takes my panties off, and I hold my legs spread, exposing myself and welcoming him, only him. He leans down towards me, propping himself on one elbow, his free hand cupping my sex. He pushes his middle finger inside of me, taking me by surprise. I thought-

"Ah!" I groan at the sweet pleasure, my back arching off the bed. I thought he was going to make love to me.

"Oh, baby, you're so ready." Mark says appreciatively, and I assume he was just 'checking' my wetness. But Mark doesn't pull his finger out, instead he starts to move it in and out of me slowly, torturously.

"Mark, please." I mewl, but he ignores me. His thumb joins the dance as he teases my clit, rubbing it in circles. I moan loudly. It feels so good, but that's what I want.

"Mark, please, more." I beg, my hips starting to move on their own.

"More?" My repeats as if he didn't know what I was talking about. I groan in frustration, whining, and my chuckles in the crook of my neck. Finally, he stops the torture and slowly enters me. We both groan at the sensation. Mark stills, letting me some time to get used to the feeling of fullness.

Then he starts to move, slow, gentle, like a warm up. It feels as good as yesterday, maybe a little bit more even. Mark groans and closes his eyes, pressing his body on mine.

"So tight..." Mark breathes, dropping his head in the crook of my neck. His hands come down to my breasts and he starts to play with them again, still thrusting in and out of me at a steady rhythm. He teases my already hard nipples, twists them and caresses them, and it's pleasure overload.

"Ah!" I cry out, my body savoring the sensation. My eyes close themselves and all I can sense is the please. Mark speeds up, thrusting faster, deeper, increasing the friction, increasing the sparkles. We're all moans and kisses, and I can feel it there, deep down, I'm starting to build. I wrap my legs around Mark's waist, holding him close, and tilting my pelvis at the same time. He hits this spot inside of me that makes my toes curl and my body sing.

"Oh, Mark!" I cry out as my body stiffens, I'm close. 

"Yes, baby. Come for me." My rasps into my ear, his scattered breath tickling my skin. I let go and detonate around him, and I cone and come, and it's deliciously ravaging. Mark moans my name as he pours himself inside off me before collapsing on top off me as breathless as I am. That was mind-blowing. Mark slowly pulls out of me.

"Ow." I wince at the sensation.

"Sore, baby?" Mark asks me, pulling his pants back up.

"Just a little." I reassure him. He leans down and kisses my lips.

"I think we'll slow down a little bit with all the sexing." He says, laying down next to me; I pull my T-shirt down. Slowing down? Out of question.

"Maybe it's just a post orgasmic thingy, I've had two mind-blowing orgasms in a short lapse of time." I purr, looking at him through long lashes.

"Mind-blowing orgasms, eh?" He smirks at me.

"Yes, mind-blowing." I pipe up, and he laughs.

"Are you hungry?" He asks me.

"For you, yes." I reply and he laughs loudly.

"You're a monster." He shakes his head in disbelief. It's all his fault.

"And you love me."

"That I do. With all of my heart." I beam as he kisses me again.

"Pancakes?" Mark proposes. Mmmh, morning sex and pancakes, I'm such a lucky bitch.


	22. Chapter 22

As Mark and I walk in the living room to prepare our breakfast I notice the pieces of the glass dropped yesterday are gone; Mark must have cleaned it when he woke up at night. Right before walking in the kitchen, something catches my eye near the TV. I walk and go see from up close, and the family picture on the TV island is damaged. The frame is broken, splinting Mark's seventeen years old face in two. It must have fallen down during the fight. I hear Mark's silent steps behind me, he remains silent.

"I've never seen you so mad." I murmur quietly. I hear him sigh loudly.

"I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't hear or see anything. I was furious." Yes, he was. I can't forget the stain of blood on his T-shirt.

"Is he okay?"

"You care?" I look up at him, his eyes show a surprise that hides a burning tension. Yes, I do care, but not in the way he thinks.

"I don't want you to be arrested." I reply, and I can see him relax in front of me.

"I won't be arrested." He says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I put the broken frame back where it was and take him in my arms.

"That's all I need to know." I murmur against his chest, and he wraps his arms around me. I hear him sigh, and then he kisses my hair.

"Come, let's make you some pancakes." He pipes up, and I let go of him. I take place behind the kitchen counter and watches as Mark prepares the batter.

Mark dips his index in the batter and offers it to me. Mark feeding me reminds me of the time we ate this vanilla yogurt. I feel hot just thinking about that day, but I know Mark won't touch me if I'm sore. I taste the batter on his finger... sweet.

I nod in approval; his pancakes are always perfect. Mark registers the information at places a pan on the hot plates.

"Tell me. What was that nightmare about?" Mark asks me, pouring the batter in the pan. I don't want to tell him, he's so sensitive about all of this, I don't want to ruin his mood.

"Nothing, it was stupid." I lie, hoping he won't insist or notice I'm lying, just this time.

"Do tell, Abby." He says, absent-mindedly.

"It was nothing, really." I repeat. W

"It was about him, right?" Damn it! Seriously, why does he always have to- this is ridiculous! Will I ever be able to keep something secret from him?

"It was just a nightmare." I try to temperate things now that he knows. He finally looks up at me and holds my gaze.

"What was happening?" This is going to become a fight.

"It was nothing, Mark." He sighs.

"Please, Abby. Don't do that." I raise my brows at him.

"Do what?" His lips form a thin line, and I know he's getting frustrated.

"You know I care." He says to me. I nod.

"You wish I didn't?"

"Sometimes." The words are out before I can stop myself, and I immediately regret them. Why did I have to say that? I don't even think any of it.

"Excuse me?!" His outburst makes me want to sink to the ground, I need to save this.

"That's not what I meant, sorry. Of course I want you to care, Mark." Mark scoffs, dumbfounded.

"I understand you needed to know my story, but this dream means nothing. Please, drop it." I plead. Mark shakes his head, resigned.

"Fine." He says, obviously giving up, and he flips the pancake over. I don't want to fight with him again like last time. Without a world, I get up front my seat and go hug him from behind, hoping he would eventually let it go.

"I'm sorry." I purr. Mark sighs and turns around to face me.

"Listen, I don't want to fight with you, Abby. I just... I always worry about you." He gazes down at me, taking my face in his hands.

"I know."

"Just tell me. Do you have a lot of nightmares?" He asks me. Suddenly it occurs me.

"Not when I sleep with you." I frown, realizing that just now.

"You had one just last night."

"You weren't in bed." I reply. Mark sighs, placing my head against his chest and hugging me tightly. My pancakes are going to burn.

"Do you want me to make you some scrambled eggs?" I propose. I know he likes my scrambled eggs.

"With bacon, please." He says, letting me go. When he kisses me tenderly I know we're good.

"Let's eat on the balcony."

The sun is shining so bright today, Mark and I decided to eat on his balcony, where he put a small table and two cute garden tables. The weather is so warm but not too much, and there is a hot breeze, not too fresh, it feels like a gentle caress.

Stretching in my seat, I can feel the soft wind on my fingertips. Mark lives on the last floor of a 15 floor building, there is a breathtaking view of LA.

"This is so great." I murmur, amazed.

"I know, right?" Mark smile, he's proud of his apartment. He pours me a glass of apple juice.

"Thank you."

"You never told me; what do you want to do after high school?" Mark asks me, his mouth full of pancakes.

"Psychology."

"Psychology?" He frowns at me. Did he think I was going to be a professional cheerleader or something? I have good grades, he is a genius but I'm a brain too.

"Why psychology?" He asks me.

"I want to understand how I was able to fall in love with someone who's similar to the man of my biggest fear." I explain, but my heart skips a bit as I see his expression harden.

"We are not similar at all, Abby." He says dryly. That was not what I meant at all! How can he even think about associating himself with him?

"No, of course not! For god's sake, Mark." I scold, and he relaxes a little bit.

"I mean, you're the same age as him, you call me Abby, and you... touch me. It's a little bit like a weird version of a Stockholm syndrome." I explain; he nods silently.

"Me, I found you, and I love you. But they're maybe thousands of girls like me who haven't got that chance." I explain, making him smile a little bit.

"That's a really great mindset." Mark says appreciatively.

"Which school did you choose?" He asks me.

"UCLA."

"Why?" He frowns.

"Loyola Marymount is closer to my house, but UCLA has a cheer team. Aaaand Bea is going to study trade there." I flush, and Mark smiles.

"Of course." He says jokingly.

Psychology. I know nothing about this, I hope it won't be too hard. Mark probably knows about psychology, he knows everything.

"You think I'll get my doctorate?" I ask him; he swallows his orange juice.

"Of course you'll get it." He replies. I wonder if it's just a boyfriend phrase. Mark spreads his arms wide out.

"Come here." He commands. Mark asking for a hug? I won't let that chance slip away. I get up from my chair and take place on his lap, my legs on each side of him and my arms wrapped around his torso. Mark squeezes me and caresses my back tenderly.

"I'm proud of you." He murmurs softly before kissing my hair and I feel like jelly, he smells so good. I'm glad he supports me, and I can't wait to start helping people.

"In six years, people will call me Doctor Kraige." I giggle, and Mark hums.

"Doctor Abigail Heather Kraige." Mark says out loud, testing the sorority of it. He nods appreciatively.

"How does it sound?"

"Sexy." He smirks down at me.

"Sexy?" I arch my brow at him, and he hums in approval.

"When you'll have your own office, we'll do it on your sofa." He says, making me laugh loudly.

"I consider that as a promise." I reply, and his lips curl into an impish smirk.

"It is a promise, baby." I'm almost squirming.

"I know." I reply, tucking my head under his chin.

"Are you gonna stay at Peddignton High next year?" I feel him shake his head.

"I'm gonna quit teaching." He says.

"Really? Why?"

"A cute little fairy one day told me I could be anything I want, she is right." I remember telling him this when we were in Dallas. I didn't know he remembered that.

"And what do you want to be?" I ask him.

"I want to be an executive."

"In which field?"

"Economy or business." I roll my eyes at him.

"You really like numbers." I shake my head.

"You're dating a nerd, Abby. Get used to it." I laugh at his word. Mmmh... my sexy nerd. I hug him tight a I look at the morning LA, sunny and already lively.

"When you move in here, we'll have breakfast here every morning." Mark murmurs before kissing my hair.

"When I move in your apartment?" I repeat, surprised. He's already thinking about living together?

"Do you want me to get a bigger place?" Mark asks me, and J lift my head to meet his gaze. His ryes are soft and shiny, his hair a little bit messy, he looks like a dreamy little boy, a teenager.

"No, this is perfect. You're perfect. I love you." Mark smiles at my words and kisses my nose. "I love you more." He replies, and I tuck my head back under his chin. With that, our morning finishes, and we head to San Diego. When Mark told me there were shops that were open on Sunday, he forgot to tell me they were so expensive. 60$ dresses! But what can I do about it? I need a dress to meet Mark's mother. All the money I saved will go to this, but it's worth it. I choose our dresses that fit in my budget and go try them on with Mark as my judge. It’s the first time I go shopping without Bea, I don't know what to expect. The first dress I try on is very simple, its pale hello with a straight cut, but I find it very short.

"What do you think?" I ask Mark as I walk out of the cabin, he smiles to me.

"You look amazing." Mark says.

"I find it a little bit short." I say.

"That's why I like it." What was I expecting from this man?

"I don't want to look like a whore in front of your mom."

"You don't look like a whore, baby. You look sexy." He corrects me.

"I don't want to be sexy in front of your mom."

"That's going to be hard." I scold him with my eyes.

This man is impossible, and this dress won't do. I go back into the cabin and try another one. This one is plain black with a peter pan collar, it's cute.

When I walk out of the cabin Mark is nowhere to be seen. Where is he gone? I adventure myself, barefooted and worried further in the store.

"I know." I here Mark's voice. Peeking from behind the wall that separates the fitting rooms from the rest of the store, I perceive Mark, he's on the phone.

"No, I'm with Abby." He mentions my name, and my skull starts to prickle.

"Fine, I think... She's stronger than I thought." Is he talking about me?

"Listen, I want to stay with her; make sure she's okay. We'll see later. You and JB can come tonight after I drop her home... Bye." As he hangs up I take a step back so he can't see me peeking. He reappears a view seconds later, almost bumping into me.

"What were you doing?" I ask, feigning ignorance.

"Sorry, I was on the phone. I like this dress." His poor attempt to change subjects makes me even more curious.

"Who was it?" I ask him.

"Jackson."

"Jackson?" I don't know him.

"The one with the snapback, yesterday."

"Oh."

"You look lovely." I ignore his second attempt to change subjects.

"What did he want?"

"News." I nod silently, lost in my thought. When I think about it, I didn't even got time to memorize his friend's daces, I didn't even say a word to them. I can barely picture Jackson's face.

"I like this dress." I don't like it anymore.

"I'm going to try another one." I mumble, walking back to my cabin.

The third dress is pale pink with a long straight skirt that stops right under my knees, a sweetheart neckline and thick straps. It's really pretty, very classy, but way too formal for the occasion. But I really like it, it could be useful. I still want to show it to Mark.

"Ta-dah!" I beam as I slide the curtain open, showing my best pose and wearing my largest smile that quickly disappears as I see Mark. He was rubbing his eyes and looked up at me, his face ashen.

"What's wrong?" I rise out of character immediately, walking to him.

"Nothing, you look stunning." Mark replies, trying to change subjects, as always.

"Don't lie to me. What's going on?"

"It's nothing, really. I really like this dress, you look lovely." He pulls me to him, and I sit on his lap.

"What did Jackson tell you?"

"Nothing, he just wanted to know if you were okay." He kisses my cheek.

"Then why are you like this?" He shrugs in response, shaking his head.

He looks like a depressed little boy. I don't like seeing him like this, and I know it's because of Liam. Liam hurt me and he hurt Mark too. We can't change the past, and talking about it will make him even more depressed; he has to forget. I know how to make him forget. Taking his head between my hands, I kiss him.

He immediately replies to my kiss, slowly moving his lips in rhythm with me. Shifting so I'm straddling him, I tangle my fingers in his hair and kiss him more hungrily. Doing this in public, being able to get caught at any time, the thrill makes my libido explode. We can't do this here, obviously, but that's what I love.

My tongue reaches out for his, and I feel him stiffen against me. He sighs in my mouth, and I know he's liking this. I start to move fractionally, creating a friction, warming him up; I hear him moan.

"Abby, don't do that." He teats away from me, breathless.

"Do what?" I feign ignorance.

"You're shifting around on me." He nervously glances around, avoiding my eyes. Is he blushing? I can't help but smile at his embarrassment. Suddenly his brow cease.

"You're doing it on purpose." He shakes his head in disbelief, bemused, and I giggle. I make a move to kiss him again, but he moves away.

"You're sore, I'm not going to touch you. Especially not here, there are cameras."

"When will you touch me?" I can't help my pout.

"I'll think about it." He teases.

"Hing!" I make the sulkiest pout I can do and cross my arms over my chest, making Mark laugh loudly. He pinches my cheeks and kisses my pout.

"Come on, you have another outfit to try on." He says, failing to hide his amusement. Looks like I'm not getting any more sex today. Sighing in defeat, I walk back into the cabin to try the last dress. The last dress is a pale blue cute piece of material. The skirt stops ten centimeters before my knees, it's sleeveless with a jewel neckline. It hides everything without making me look like a kid; I adore. Mark smiles to me as I walk out of the cabin.

"Wow." He says appreciatively; his eyes are shining.

"You like?"

"I love." He replies, taking my hand and making me spin.

"Really?"

"Take it. That one and the pale one." 

"I only have something like eighty bucks."

"I am paying, Abby." He says. Here he goes again, trying to spend money on me. I hate that, and he knows it!

"I know you're going to snap soon, so let's make a deal." He says, waking up my curiosity.

"You let me buy you everything I want and we'll have sex as soon as you don't feel sore anymore." He promises me sex? Actually it's not the fact that he tries to corrupt me with sex that shocks me, but the fact that I'm actually very interested by his offer.

I don't know what's happening to me since yesterday, it's like I'm constantly turned on. I need sex.

"Tomorrow." I command, and it's not up for discussion.

"Tomorrow?" He raises an eyebrow at me. Tomorrow it's Monday, we could do it at school, that would be thrilling.

"After class." I can't hide the excitement in my voice.

"You want to do it in my classroom?" His eyes are bubbly. Having sex in his classroom! On my desk... On his desk... The thought is arousing.

"I want to do something... nasty." I bite my lip, preventing myself from getting too worked up.

"You're talking to me." Mark smirks, making me giggle.

"Deal?" I pipe up, stretching my hand out.

"Deal." He nods, shaking my hand. Classroom sex tomorrow!

-

After buying me an 80$ pair of shoes, Mark and I decided to sit down for a moment. I perceive an ice cream shop a few feet away from us.

"I'm gonna get us ice creams." I say to Mark.

"Cool." Mark says. Lifting his behind a little bit, he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. I roll my eyes at him.

"Oh, please. Let me at least pay for that." I whine, and he snakes to me.

"Whatever." He folds his wallet and pits it back in his pocket.

"What flavor do you want?" I ask him.

"Choose for me." He says. I nod and get up from my seat.

When I come back a few minutes later, Mark is on his phone. Dropping his pot in front of him, I catch his attention as I sit down.

"Vanilla?" He raises an amused brow at me. I shrug innocently, pretending not to know what he's talking about. His eyes are shining. I love seeing him like this.

"We spent a really good time that day." I tease, taking a spoonful of ice cream.

"We could have fun with this." Mark replies. The thought is... arousing. I don't know if it's a promise, but I'll sure keep that in mind.

-

Stuck in front of the door of my house, I ruffle through my bag and find my phone, my charger, my hand cream, my makeup purse, everything but my keys. Taking a closer look I perceive a little silver thing, probably my keyring. Taking it out from my bag I quickly realize it's not my keyring but my pill packet. I gasp in horror, remembering I forgot to rake it yesterday. Shit! Yesterday was such a mess, I completely forgot, and we had sex, two times! It hasn't been long since I'm on the pill, I'm not used to the routine. On the evidence of the number of pills I have left, my next period is in two days, I might already be pregnant. My skull prickles. What am I gonna do?

Morning-after pill. I need that, quick. I glance I my phone, the closest pharmacy closes in fifteen minutes. Shit! Ruffling through my bag house again, I finally find my keys a house and storm into my house. "Abigail?" I hear my mom call from somewhere in the house.

"Forgot my phone at Bea's mom, I'll be back in twenty minutes!" I shout back, running up the stairs. Quickly grabbing my skateboard, I leave the house. I'll have to get a pregnancy test if my period doesn't come, I hope the pill will work. Mark would kill me if I ever got pregnant, I don't want to be pregnant, I can't be pregnant.


	23. Chapter 23

Everything I do. I mess up in absolutely everything I do. And the bad luck strives to me; the drugstore was closing when I arrived.

Monday, Mark and I were supposed to have fun after class but I pretended to be on my period that was due the next day. When I tried to go to the drugstore my mom called telling she was feeling ill and I had to go home. I've never seen my mother that ill by the way.

On Tuesday, I finally got in a drugstore but the woman told me it was too late and instead proposed me a pregnancy test. I insisted and bought both. Even after the pharmacist's speech, I still wanted to believe there a chance the pill worked. The next day, when I realized I was late by a day, I didn't stop believing, hoping.

Today it's Sunday, I'm four days late, and my faith is seriously rattled.

It's been a week since our first intercourse, I may be one week pregnant. On top of that I have to meet his mother today. I decided to go get dressed at Bea's, and since her parents aren't there for the entire weekend we are be on our own and Mark can even pick me up there.

"It's not because I was ovulating when we did it that I'm definitely pregnant. I mean, why are couples struggling to have babies?" I ramble, pacing up and down in Bea's bedroom. It's the little bit of faith I have speaking, my head prickles. Bea doesn't answer me, she sits on the ground, her legs crossed, focused on the pregnancy test, occasionally checking the timer on her phone.

"How much time left?" She glances at the phone, and looks back at the little plastic thingy.

"Ten seconds." I sag against the wall and start a mental countdown. No, I'm not pregnant, I took the morning after pill, I'm just late. I just can't be pregnant, no, I mean... no, just no.

7...6...5

What am I going to do if it's positive?

3...2...1...

I nervously glance down at Bea. She takes the package of the test and reads, then she looks back at the test; I stop breathing.

"Positive." She finally looks up at me.


	24. Chapter 24

I sink onto the floor as the word echoes in my head, feeling like a slap across the face. The tears start to flow immediately. Oh, no. God, no. I can't be pregnant, it's not possible. Bea crawls to me and curls her arms around me, whispering reassuring words into my ear, but they're no use. There is no way things are going to be fine. Mark is going to kill me, and my parents are going to hang me. There is no exit. No exit I know at least.

"What do I have to do?" I ask Bea through my tears.

"Tell him." Tell Mark? No!

"He's gonna kill me."

"You don't have a choice, Abby. Whether you want to keep it or not, you have to tell him." I redoubt his reaction, like always. We've never talked about kids, but we didn't have to for me to know he doesn't want this baby.

"What if he leaves me?" The thought is frightening. I would never get over it.

"Listen, you can't know how things are gonna happen, but you should know by now that the more you wait, the bigger the thing gets." She refers to how I hid my relationship with Mark from her.

"I know." I sniffle.

"You have to get ready."

"I don't want to." I don't want to see him; how will I look at him in the eyes? And I have to meet his mother.

"Listen, I'm here okay? We'll find a solution, but there is an order. First, talk about it with him. Then your parents if you don't have a choice, if they react badly you can come here, my parents will help you."

"There is always a solution." She wipes my tears away. It's not the baby I'm most anxious about, it's Mark's reaction. I nod weakly, and she hugs me.

"I'm gonna throw this as far as I can, you go take a shower." She says as she pulls away, holding the test in her hand.

"Thank you." I wipe my nose on the back of my hand. After two hours I'm totally ready, I've given myself a mental slap and took a grip of myself. Bea took care of my hair and my makeup, my cheeks have more colors, and my hair is softer. I changed into my pale blue dress and put on my new pair and wedges; they're not too high but enough for me to not look like a grandma, and the straps at my ankles and my toes are white. I chose to wear a white choker and finalized my outfit with a white satchel. When Mark calls and tells me he's close, we both decide to wait on her porch where there is a rocking bench; we move in rhythm.

 

Mark's car pulls at the end of the alley, and my heart skips a bit. Fear comes back to me, and I threaten to shake.

 

"Tell him today." Bea squeezes my thigh, waking me up. I give her a small smile and kiss her cheek.

 

"I'll text you." I say, getting up from the bench. As I walk down the stairs, Mark gets out of his car, dark blue untucked shirt and black pants. He walks around his car as he sees me walking to him; he gives me a warm, teethy smile. His smile is contagious, and despite myself, I smile back at him.

 

"Hi." I breathe once I'm in front of him. He dips down and kisses me wetly, his way to return my greeting.

 

"You look lovely." He murmurs against my lips.

"Thank you." His grin is infectious, and I beam stupidly at him. I stand by his side and turn to Bea; she waves energetically at us, smiling broadly. Mark holds his hand up as a greeting as I wave back at her.

"Shall we go?" He pipes up. Mark piping up? He looks excited. How can I ruin his mood by telling him now? I'll tell him after meeting his mom. I want to enjoy myself before dying. I need to get that out of my mind for now. Mark opens my door and lets me climb in before taking place in the driver driver's. And with that, we're off to the south of LA.

"Your finals are coming up, you know." Mark says while we are on the road.

"It's in a month." I roll my eyes at him. He's not going to stress me out with this, is he?

"Did you start revising?" He asks me.

"More or less." I shrug.

"More or less?" He raises an eyebrow. Oh, I know where this is headed. I need to change subjects.

"I have no time between cheer and my wonderful boyfriend." I smirk.

"Does he distract you?" He plays along, his lips curled upward.

"Very much." He turns his face to me, smirking arrogantly. His eyes are burning. Oh, this is getting sexual. I quickly change subjects before my uncontrolled blush gets visible.

"I bought this for your mom." I proceed a cute box of chocolate out of my bag.

"You didn't have to." He smiles as if the gift was for him.

"You told me she loves white chocolate." I open the lid for him to see.

"You sure know how to listen. She'll love them." At least that's good news. I close the box and put it back in my bag.

"My brother will be there too."

"Really?" He didn't tell me about this.

"He was supposed to go on a trip with his soldier friends but he cancelled." He shrugs.

"Why did he enlist?" Mark makes a clueless pout and shrugs.

"You'll ask him." He leaves me perplexed, is it a delicate subject?

Way too soon, Mark parks in front of a house in a residential neighborhood, and we both get out of the car. Mark clasps my hand and leads me to the door. He proceeds the keys from his pocket.

"Wait. Do I look okay?" I stop him before he can put them in the lock. I tuck one side of my hair behind my ear and comb it with my hand. My fingers slip through it like on silk. Wow, I'll have to start buying Bea's conditioner. Mark gives me a sweet smile.

"You look radiant, Abby. Don't be nervous." He kisses me briefly and opens the door. I follow him as we step in, and the first thing I notice is the beauty of the house. On the left there is the living room, with grey and dark blue furniture, a fireplace and a TV, there is a corridor in the middle, and a very spacious kitchen with grey and black furniture. From the couch, Mark's mother rises. She's the same height as me, she has big eyes and a sharp Bob. She looks young, she is radiant. Mark has her eyes.

"Hello!" She sings, rushing toward us as Mark closes the door behind us.

"Hi, mom." I watch as she hugs Mark tightly, kissing his cheek. She lets him go and turns to me, a warm smile on her face. Her smile is contagious.

"She's here!" She says in delight, taking me in her arms. I'm surprised but very amused by her enthusiasms.

"Hello, Dorice." I say. She pulls away and holds me at arm's length.

"Abigail, you look lovely!" I smile timidly at her. Oh, please stop.

"She's pretty, right?" Mark says, wrapping an arm around me. He pulls me to his side and Dorice is forced to let me go. He kisses my temple.

"Gorgeous. Come on, come in." She makes a welcoming motion with her hand and leads us to the living room.

"Dylan! They're here!" She shouts as we walk past of the corridor. Dorice suddenly takes both of my hands.

"I have so many things to tell you, I already took the albums out, do you want to see baby Mark?" She says to me, making me giggle. I'm too overwhelmed by her joy, words fail me.

"Ma, I told you not to embarrass me with those pictures." Mark whines.

"Who are you calling 'ma'?" Dorice smiles sweetly at him, so sweetly that I get she is hiding her irritation.

"Geez..." Mark rolls his eyes. His mom is so funny!

"I reunited the most embarrassing one in one album, you'll love it." I crack up at her words. Oh, this is going to be funny.

"Big brother!" Mark's brother emerges from the corridor, white T-shirt and chino pants. He's shorter than Mark, but a little bit bigger. Aurianne would totally love. He hugs Mark and taps his back.

"Bringing us another victim?" He smiles broadly, pulling away but still holding him. Victim?

"Watch your mouth." Mark does something I can't see and Dylan flinches, amused.

"I'm joking. I'm Dylan, nice to meet you." He turns to me and hugs me as well.

"Abigail." I say politely, and he gives me a warm smile.

"This is for you. Mark told me you liked chocolate." I proceed the small box of chocolate from my bag and give it to Dorice.

"Oh, darling girl, you didn't have to. Thank you, I'll enjoy them in front of an episode of Drop Dead Diva." She takes then and hugs me once more. Her hugs are... warm.

"The meal will be ready in ten minutes, you can sit down." She waves towards the couch and the two armchairs. Mark claps my hand and we sit on the couch while Dylan take the armchair in front of us.

"What will you all drink?" Dorice asks, walking to the kitchen.

"A beer." Dylan replies first.

"Water for me." Mark says.

"And you Abigail?"

"Apple juice." Mark answers for me. I elbow his side.

"Ow." He frowns at me, holding his side. Apple juice is too childish, I don't want to look like a baby, not now at least.

"No, I'll take water too, please." I smile at Dorice. She nods and turns to the fridge.

"You don't like apple juice anymore?" Mark asks me, concerned. I shake my head.

"There you go." Dorice drops a tray with all our drinks on the coffee table.

Dorice really is a sweet person, she immediately put me at ease, but still asked me tons of questions. I got to see baby Mark, he was adorable as a baby, and he was a cute little boy. She also showed me a video of him after he got his wisdom teeth removed, it was hilarious. Mark seemed very relaxed, he loves teasing his mom, and they bicker a lot, but it's cute to see. Oh, and Dorice is also an amazing cook. Her roasted chicken is amazing; I've never eaten so well at someone else's house. I talked to Mark's brother, he said he always wanted to be a soldier, he's passionate. I don't see why Mar made a mystery out of this.

"Dorice that was delicious." I compliment sincerely after the desert. Ah! I'm so full. Eating so much should be a crime.

"Mom, am I allowed out of table? I want to give Abigail a tour of the house." Mark asks sweetly, and I know he's acting.

"We should clear our plates first." I murmur into his ear.

"Oh, no, darling girl. He, will clear you plates." Dorice prompts, surprising me. She heard me? Mark laughs but obeys and clears our plates before walking back to me.

"Come." Mark claps my hand and leads me away. We walk into the corridor that separates the kitchen and the dining table from the living room. We walk past the stairs and Mark opens a door.

"That's my father's study." He says as I step in. All I can see is the huge wall size library, full comics, only comics. What a collection!

"I barely put a foot inside." Mark says to me.

"Why?" I turn to him and notice he didn't step in; he's still in the doorway. He shrugs simply. I turn to the books again. These are really old comics, I itch to take one out, but I discipline myself. Finally tearing my eyes away from the books, I look at the big wooden desk; it's empty. There is just a small lamp and a frame.

"How long has he been gone for?" I ask, taking the picture in my hand. It's a family picture.

"Two months."

Mark's father is always smiley, on every picture of him I saw, he looks like a good man.

"Do you think he'll like me?" Mark smiles sweetly.

"He'll love you." He says. I put the frame back in place.

"Come. Let's go to the backyard." He holds his hand out for me. I take it, and he after we walk out, he slides the class doors at the end of the corridor.

"There's a pool!" I exclaimed, enthusiastic.

"It's cool, right?" Mark drapes his arm around me and pulls me to his side.

"We'll come spend a weekend here." He murmurs before kissing my hair.

"Come." He clasps my hand and lead me back in the house. We climb stairs, there are five doors upstairs, Mark opens one.

"That was my room." He says, and this time, he walks in with me. He has a small library too, full of comics, and a couple of novels. The comics are the only sign of his life here, there are no posters, no picture. I open his dressing, it's empty. There is only a black sports bag.

"What's in there?" I ask him.

"My old soccer stuffs. I don't know why mom keeps them." His soccer stuff? I eagerly open the back. I pull out his soccer jersey. It's blue with black vertical stripes. He was number nine.

"Why did you stop?" I ask him.

"To focus on my studies."

There are socks, shoes, protections, and I discover a picture. It's a team picture. All the players are lined up, hand behind their back, Mark is kneeling at the front. He looks really young on the picture. I feel him curl his arms around me, and he rests his chin on my shoulder.

"I'd love to see you play." I murmur.

"One day, maybe." He kisses my temple.

"My mom loves you." He says.

"I love your mom." I reply, sincerely.

"I love you." He kisses my cheek.

"I love your mom." He laughs, loudly.

"Come, let's go downstairs." He says, still laughing.

-

Dorice and I are seated at the kitchen counter while Mark and his brother are playing video games in the living room. Mark playing video games, who knew?

"Mark says he's a teenager in his head, but I find him quite serious." I say to Dorice.

"Believe me, he still is a teenager." She laughs freely.  Damn, she looks so young. Too young to be a grandmother. Oh, I'm so sorry Dorice. Oh, no. I said I won't think of it now. I shake the thought away.

"He gets mad easily, and he's very mercurial. He hates not getting what he wants. He struggles to think when a strong emotion hits him. He's more likely to yell and then think." She says. Yes, he does get mad easily, but I hadn't associated that with being a mental teenager.

"My words seem to be surprising you." She says. I put my raised eyebrows down.

"Haven't you seen it yet?" She asks me.

"I did. Actually it's constant. I didn't know." I reply.

"I knew it." Dorice smiles to me. She knew what?

"Excuse me?"

"Mark was always acting, around his girlfriends. It was very awkward. None of them knew.

"Really?" She nods.

"You're different. I've never seen him so carefree and relaxed; you're doing something to him." Woah. I turn and look at Mark makes funny comments about the little goblins that are attacking his character, saying they look like moving radishes. Suddenly he looks much younger to me. Maybe his past has may more importance that I thought. I need to know more.

"Do you know when I'll be able to meet his dad?" I ask Dorice.

"Ray is supposed to come home in five months or less." She replies. Five months?! I can't wait five months. I'll have to ask Mark directly.

"Are they close?" I ask Dorice. She shifts as if uncomfortable and looks at Mark. I frown.

"Am I being too indiscreet?"

"Oh, no, darling." She snorts.

"Ray's father was a soldier, he was looking forward to a third generation of soldiers, but Mark was more into books and numbers." She says.

"He thinks his father isn't proud of him, and that he loves Dylan more than him."

So they don't get along? He never told me that.

"Is it the case?" I ask her, and she giggles. Oh, what a lovely sound.

"Raymond is proud of his children, both of them. He actually thinks he's the one who did wrong." Wrong?

"Your son is perfect." I murmur.

"I know." She smiles sadly.

"But he's wounded." We both look at him. Mark his making his bother laugh loudly, making comments about how awkward this game was.

"Mark is very sensible, really. And because of his relationship with his dad, he hates to disappoint people, and he hates to hurt them. But at the same time he's mercurial and impulsive." That explain lots of things. That's why he hates when things don't go his way, because things never went his way, since his childhood.

"Mark didn't have a lot of friends at school, only at the soccer club, and I was worried when he quit. He had to act mature and strong and serious at school and in front of his dad." That's why I find him so young in his head sometimes, he does act childish with me. Like his petulant demands so I would tell him how I got raped. It was childish, a bit like a tantrum, but then I love him so.

"He never really enjoyed his right to be childish. And now that he's an adult, he can't possibly make up for all that lost time." I look at Dorice. She looks melancholic. She turns to me.

"Except with you, I think. He is happy." She says, giving me a tight smile. I smile back at her. It's great to know she thinks I'm good enough for her son in spite of my young age.

"Ma, what are you telling her?"

"You're going to get your ass beat so hard, Mark."

"Ma, are the bikes still in the garage?" Dorice glares at him.

"Mommy." He corrects, wrapping his arms around her neck and dropping a kiss on the crown of her head. He's giggling, he really likes playing with her.

"Yes they didn't move, go away." She wriggles out of his embrace. Mark walks around the counter and holds his hand out to me.

"I'm taking her out for a ride, we'll be back in less than an hour." He says to Dorice. I take his hand and stand up.

"With those shoes? And I'm wearing a dress."

"The neighborhood is deserted, you'll be just fine." Mark reassures me.

"Have fun." Dorice sings, and I wave at her. Mark leads me out of the house then to the garage.

"Where are we going?" I ask Mark as he opens the garage.

"It's a secret." He winks at me before disappear inside.

"Here." He brings me a red bike. I take him his hand and watch as he goes back into the garage. He comes back with a silver bike for him, it has a basket with a rag... no, a blanket in it.

"Follow me." Mark hooks his bike and speeds away, taking me by surprise, but I manage to catch up with him. I catch up with him but still remain a little bit behind so he can lead the way.

"Why didn't you tell me about your relationship with your father?" Mark briefly turns to me, his brows furrowed.

"I never told any of my girlfriends."

"Wow, I feel so special."

"Don't be mad at me. It's something I want to talk about, and I barely see my father, it's not the first thing I want to talk about." He says, briefly turning to me. I keep silent.

"What did mom tell you?" He asks me.

"That your father loves you, even if you think the contrary." I hear him scoff. He's probably rolling his eyes.

"You told me he would take you to your soccer practices, and that he would give you a comic book."

"My mom told him to do so. I heard her say it on the phone."

"I knew my dad wouldn't just do what my mom told him to do. When I told him I knew everything and asked him why he gave me those comics, he said it was because Andy is a marine, Bella's brother is a marine and Charles is ex-army, and that he really hoped I would wake up someday because he didn't want his son to be a fucking nerd." Mark bristles.

"He said it like this?"

"Those are pretty harsh words to say to a nine years old boy." He was nine when he said that?! That's worse than what I thought.

"Your mom says he's just mad because he thinks it's his fault."

"His fault that what?" Mark asks. His fault that... his fault that what? There is nothing wrong with Mark.

"Exactly." Mark says as I keep silent.

"I could be a fucking billionaire he would still call me a loser." Mark butters bitterly.

"Don't say this, you-"

"Enough, now." I scowl at him even though he can't see me. Geez, was I dad difficult?

"Well, I told you everything."

"My mom told you everything."

"I want to know how you feel."

"Slightly annoyed right now." Jeez!

I roll my eyes at him and he sighs. He makes a U turn in front of me, obliging me to stop in my tracks. He stops so he's at my level, facing me. His eyes are soft.

"I'm sorry, Abby. My mom never talked about that to my exes. I've never had to talk about it." He reaches out and stokes my face.

"You know everything there is to know now, I just don't want to talk about it."

"You understand?" He asks me. I've been like him, of course I understand. Maybe I should give him a break, for now.

"Of course you do. You're an angel." He kisses my forehead, then my lips.

"Let's go." He says, making another U turn and pedaling away. I follow him to a small lane between an old house and a field, then through a small forest, then we enter a big but beautiful peace of greenery. It's like a small stain in the middle of the forest. Its isolated and perfectly round. Green, just greenery and flowers... poppies!

"Woah." I exclaim, amazed by the view. I follow Mark as we adventure ourselves further in the small garden, stopping right in the middle. We both get off our bikes and put them on the floor.

"This place is so beautiful." I murmur.

"I know right? It was my quiet place." Mark says. He takes the blanket from the basket at the front of his bike.

"Looks like the field in Twilight-"

"Oh please!" He laughs. Oh, right, he hates Twilight.

"Sorry, but that's what you get when you date a younger girl." I giggle. Mark unfolds the blanket and stretches it out on the grass.

"It's been years since I've been there. Hasn't changed at all." He says is we both sit down.

"A picnic here would be lovely."

"I'll keep that in mind." He replies before kissing my temple. He grabs my ankles and pulls them so my legs lay over his, and he takes one of my shoes off.

"What did you do when you came here?" I ask him.

"Nothing." He replies, placing my shoe next to him. He brings my foot to his lips and kisses the place where my toes start; it tickles. I smile to him even though he's not looking at me. He's so loving, he even loves my feet.

"Nothing?" I repeat. He removes my other shoe and kisses my other feet and my ankle.

"At first I would sit there and think, for an hour or two." He says.

"Then I started spending mornings, afternoons, nights even, just laying here." He lays down on the blanket, folding his arms behind his head.

"Nights?" I wriggle my toes in the soft wind, my legs still over his.

"I had a small tent. I would put it in my backpack with a couple of comics and a flashlight." I imagine little Mark in a tent reading book, what a cute picture. But going missing like this, his mom must have had a hard time. I lay down beside him, and he gives me his arm as a pillow.

"Your mom must've been worried."

"At first she was. She would call the cops." The cops? Oh, that must have been difficult to live for his mother. How worried she must have been?

"Why did you do this?" He moves so his laying on his side, facing me.

"At least here I didn't have to pretend," He strokes my lower lip.

"Like when I'm with you." He says. I can't help but grin. He doesn't pretend around me, he's not like how he was with his exes.

"Your mom told me you were pretending with all your exes." Mark smacks his tongue.

"Geez, what did she not tell you?" He sighs, rolling on his back. I choose to ignore his mood.

"You didn't have any choice during your childhood, but you choose your girlfriends. Why did you choose girls you that forced you to pretend being someone you're not?"

"I've always being attracted to older girls."

"Since Mrs. Cooper?" He nods.

"Did you pretend around her?"

"No."

"Did you bring your exes here?"

"I told you, it's been years I've been here. Since I moved out." He says. That's reassuring.

"How many exes do you have?" Oh, why does it feel like talking about Christian's subs? I know it's not the same thing, but he had a lifestyle.

"You want to discuss my exes, now? Here?" He asks, telling me how I'm ruining the moment. I don't care.

"Yes." He sighs. Running his hand through his hair.

"Six." He sighs. Six?! I don't know shit about relationships, but that's a fucking lot! Six! Fuck!

"Six?!" I choke on my oxygen. He gapes at me but says nothing. I scoff, incredulous. Why doesn't he say something? What do I want him to say? Oh and fuck, it won't change anything.

"Are you still in touch with Mrs. Cooper?"

"No." He sighs, clearly exasperated. At least she's old news, not a Mrs. Robinson. I wonder how young she must have looked for him to fall in live like that.

"How old was she at the time?"

"It was her first year teaching, she was 24."

"She was eight years older."

"The girls you dated, how older were they?" Mark keeps silent; I look up at him.

"Answer me." I plead, even if his silence gives the answer away. He places his free hand on my cheek, his thumb caressing me.

"It doesn't mean anything." He shakes his head. So they were all eight years older than him. At first I'm hurt, but then I feel angry. It changes everything! He doesn't have a dark past, but he had a lifestyle, and I don't fit anywhere. How could he not tell me? About his dad, about his exes?

"It means a lot, you know it." I can't help my reproaching tone.

"No." He breathes. I scowl at him.

"I'm eight years younger than you."

"I didn't choose that." He says.

"I didn't choose you, Abby. I fell in love with you." His words sound sincere, what do I say to that? Deep down I know he loves me, but I'm obviously not his style. And it's not about preferences, it's about that woman. She influenced his whole life in a certain direction, and yet he's with me. This is so confusing.

"Mrs. Cooper, my exes, they're all old news. Don't compare yourself to them, you're more. You're so much more." More? My heart swells at his words. He kisses my lips.

"Forget about this, please."

"I just-"

"Abby, drop it. I love you, don't doubt me, please." He pleads. What's the point of arguing over this? I can't change his past after all.

"I love you too." I murmur, and he smiles at me.

"Cool." He kisses my forehead and puts his chin above my head. I snuggle closer to him and inhale his divine perfume. He smells... manly.

"Do you still want to come here sometimes?" I ask him, and he hums negatively.

"You have another quiet place?"

"I have my apartment."

"It's your quiet place? Like a secret garden?"

"A secret garden?" He raises amused eyebrows at me.

"Yes. Somewhere you go when you want to be yourself, somewhere where you feel carefree and away from everything." Mark doesn't seem to relate to my words. His brows are furrowed, his eyes plunged into mine, he's in deep thoughts. What is he thinking? Suddenly, something changes in his eyes.

"What?"

He shakes his head and one corner of his mouth quirks, his eyes are tender. He reaches out and caresses my face with his knuckles, then with his thumb, then he skims it over my bottom lip. Suddenly he kisses me, passionately, taking me by surprise. He shifts so he's lying on his forearm, towering over me, and his lips claim mine. Oh, dear. He makes his free hand slide down my neck to my hip and my thigh, then up to my breast. I gasp in his mouth.

"Mark, no." I mumble against his lips, grabbing his shoulders. Does he really want to do this now? Outdoors? He ignores me and takes place between my legs, and I can feel his erection growing against me. Oh, he wants me. This knot of desire inside of me unravels despite me, and my libido explodes. He shifts once, his arousal rubbing against me, and I moan.

Still kissing me, he tangles his fingers in my hair around the nape of my neck, then he fists his hand and tugs, tilting my head bag and making me gasp in surprise. He tugs at my necklace with his teeth and slides it down so my scars are exposed to him. He kisses my neck and worships my scars with his mouth, nipping and sucking, and his lips sending tingles everywhere in their wake. I writhe under him, helpless as he bites me softly.

"Ah, please." I mewl as he nibbles at my swollen skin. I'm so aroused, the feeling his heady; but we can't do this here.

"Someone could see us." I try to reason him despite my body's response to his impromptu assault.

"Shhhh." He rasps into my ear, taking my earlobe between his teeth and tugging gently. Mark makes a sexy sound low in his throat as I writhe beneath him once more, finding a precious friction. Oh, I want this, in bed.

He runs his hands on my tight, hitching my dress up and exposing my lower body.

"No, Mark, wait." My voice betrays my arousal. He nips at my throat, his tongue running over my scars, teasing, loving... oh my. His hand slip in my underwear, and he discovers my wetness. I gasp as his finger parts my lips, sending waves of pleasure everywhere.

"Baby, you're deliciously wet, all wet for me." He growls appreciatively, his fingers caressing my dampened flesh up and down, slowly. I mewl at his obscene words. His thumb skims over my clitoris, and a bold finger of his slips inside of me.

"Ah..." I buck my hips and push toward his hand, savoring the intrusion.

"You're so responsive when I touch you. See by yourself, baby." He leans down, pulls his fingers out of me and offers me his index. I take into my mouth and suck, tasting my silk saltiness. Mark groans, burying his face in the crook of my neck as I circle my tongue around his finger. Pulling his finger out of Mt mouth, he closes his lips over mine, his tongue meeting mine, searching, exploring, dominating. His hands are not me but his mouth completely subdues me.

"We're gonna get caught." I say, panting, as he breaks away. He's breathless, his scattered breath tickling my lips. Mark grasps my panties and pushes then to the side, and before I know it, he eases himself inside of me.

"Ah!" I cry out in surprise.

"Oh, Abby." He groans, his eyes closing themselves. He stays still inside of me, and this feeling of fullness... the friction deep down... Oh, yes! Oh, no! Not here.

My body takes over my mind, and I moan as Mark starts to move, slowly, tentatively. He thrusts and thrusts slowly, pushing me, getting me going, and I love. The friction creates sparkles, and I love. I should be ashamed for loving this so much, but it's him, only him can see me like this. Mark worships my scars again, biting me, his teeth sinking into my skin and he adds the hot caress of his tongue.

"Ah..." My hips start to move on their own, and I push up to meet him thrust for thrust. And, Ah! It feels good like that, more friction. It starts to burn.

"There's only you and me here, just us baby. Let me hear you." Mark trails his tongue from the dip base of my neck to my chin as he speeds up, pounding inside of me, deeper.

"Oh, Mark!" I cry out, savoring his relentless rhythm. He's doing me so good.

"Yes. Yes, baby." The air hisses between his teeth, and he moans loudly. I close my eyes, and I'm sensations, just the pleasure, just the fire. He's everywhere, inside of me, on me, in my neck, his lips, his breath... Ah! I'm starting to build. This familiar sensation starts again, a torturous crescendo.

"You are so, so beautiful." He rasps into my ear, and his mouth is on my scars again, hungry and aggressive. He hits this particular spot in me, and it's like an electroshock, pushing closer to the edge.

"Ah!" I moan, feeling my orgasm coming. Mark grasps my wrists and pins them above my head, staring at me intently.

"Give it to me, Abby. Come on." He growls, and his words are my undoing. My eyes still plunged in his, my brows furrows and my lips part as my body surrenders to the sweet pleasure. I come and come, and it's magical, blowing me away, like a shockwave from m center to my head and my toes. Mark screws his eyes shut as I detonate around him, soon finding his release after me.

"Oh, baby!" He cries out before thrusting sharply into me, stilling as he empties himself. He collapses on top of me, as worn out as I am. Outdoors sex... that's definitely something to do again.

"I love you so much." Mark kisses my jaw, my cheeks, my nose, and my lips.

"I love you too, you insatiable thing." I reply. Geez, he seemed so desperate to make love to me, I wonder how he managed to hold himself back for almost five months.

"You don't know how right you are." He says, freeing my wrists.

"Actually I do have a secret garden." He says to me.

"Do you, now?" I raise my eyebrows at him. He nods.

"You."

I smile at him.

"That's a lovely thing to say."

"It's the truth." He kisses my nose.

"And you are mine." I murmur.

"I know." He says, pulling out of me and sitting up.

"You do?"

"Sexwise at least." He zips his pants up. I laugh at his words.

"Am I funny, young girl?" He crawls back to me, his eyes dancing with wicked amusement. He pokes my side and I squeal, tensing up instantly. Oh, no.

"Don't, Mark. No." I hold my hands up to protect myself and press my arms on my side. There. His eyes light up with mischievousness and he makes his fingertips dance along my sides, thwarting my protection with ridiculous ease. Ah! No! I squirm and giggle beneath him.

"Stop! Mark, please!" I plead, breathless, and the loud chuckle of wicked delight he makes makes me understand he won't stop until I pee my panties. I start to tickle him.

"Ah!" He says, his action ceasing immediately. He grabs my wrists and pins my hands above my head, leaning close to my face.

"You're fighting me back?" He smirks, his eyes darkening. Oh, this is getting hot.

"I hate tickling." I breathe.

"In my memories you were giggling like a schoolgirl." He brushes his nose along the length of mine, then against my earlobe, down my neck.

"I am a schoolgirl."

"A sexy schoolgirl." He kisses the place where my neck joins my shoulder. His words travel straight to my center and all the muscles inside my belly start to twitch. I sigh and try to free myself from him.

"I love to hear you laugh." He kisses one of my scars, and I writhe beneath him.

"Oh, Abby. What you do to me..." His voice is low and sexy, I pull on my wrist again. Letting me go, he sits up.

"Come, let's go."

"What?"

"It's getting late." He says. I watch, speechless, as he gets up.

"What?" He cocks his head to the side.

"You know what." He smirks down at me and stretches his hand out to me.

"All in good time, baby. Come." I groan. Why is he doing this? I know it's to be discussed, so I follow him.

-

Dylan and I are talking animatedly about music, he's a fan of Spyair too.

"We should leave now." Mark says from next to me. I want to pout.

"Oh, no!" Dorice exclaims, speaking for me.

"Mom, it's getting late. I have to bring her home, we both have to go to school tomorrow." Mark replies as if he was speaking to a kid.

"Where do you live, Abigail?" Dorice asks me.

"Brentwood."

"It's close!" She exclaims, making us laugh. No, it's not close at all.

"Sorry, 'ma. I promise we'll come back soon." Mark says before hugging his mother. Dorice gives in and returns his hug. Dylan and I stand and he hugs me.

"Was nice meeting you." He says.

"Me too, I hope we'll see each other again soon." I reply. I turn to Dorice and she hugs me warmly

"Good bye, honey." She kisses my cheek.

"Goodbye, Dorice, it was a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for everything." I reply. Mark clasps my hand and Dorice and Dylan follow us to the door.

"You're welcome darling. Take good care of my son, he's a good boy." I can sense Mark rolling his eyes, and I start to giggle.

"I will, I promise." I reply. Mark opens the door.

"Bye." I wave quickly at them.

"See you." Dylan says before Dorice closes the door.

"It's not even six pm." I whine as we're left alone.

"Let's go grab something to drink." He says, ignoring my pout.

"Can we go to your apartment?" I ask. I don't want to tell him in public.

"Yes, why?" He asks me. I shrug and wrap mark arm around his waist as we walk back to the car. I feel sour again. I'll have to tell him. I hoped we would have stayed a little bit longer, maybe forever, but instead I'm going back to reality. God help me.

-

Mark and I sit on his couch, watching TV. After giving myself some courage with a glass of Coca Cola, I burp through my nose and decide to go for it and tell him before I get too scared.

"I have something to tell you." I say to Mark, getting his attention.

"What is it?" Suddenly I feel stuck again. Oh, no, no, no, I can't tell him. Can I find a parade? What if I waited a little? I try to imagine the scenario where I tell him later, his reaction would be... nuclear.

"Abby."

"I'm pregnant." The words are out before I can stop them. Mark startled me during my deep thought and I panicked. Mark frowns.

"You're what?" His tone is wary. It's a I-give-you-one-more-chance-to-say-it's-a-joke tone. I swallow.

"I'm pregnant." I repeat.

"What?!" Shit, he's mad. Oh, Abigail, what did you expect?

"How?" He asks me.

"How?"

"You were on birth control, Abby. How?!" He snarls, and I look down at my knotted fingers.

"I forgot to take my pill last Saturday." I mumble, ashamed.

"Fuck, Abby!" He slams his hand on the leather of the couch and gets up. From the corner of my eye, I see him starting to pace up and down.

"You had one thing to do, Abby. Just one simple thing." He says, and I remain silent. I have nothing to reply, he's right. I'm so stupid. Tears prickles at my eyes, but I do NY best to hold them back, it will make him even more mad if I cry.

"I'm sorry." I whisper. He sighs, running both off his hands in his hair. He paces for a long moment, and I keep silent, making myself as small as possible. Time seems to have slowed down. What is he thinking? The same anguish grips at my heart, and it starts to haunt me. I'm itching to ask him.

"You're gonna leave me?"

"Don't be stupid, Abby. You know me better than that." The bitter tone he has prevents me from feeling relieved. I don't want him to leave me, but seeing him so mad still makes me feel bad, and I can't hold my tears anymore. Silently, I start to sob, covering my eyes with my hands.

"Shit, no. Abby, don't cry." Mark says, his voice soft, and I feel him sit next to me.

"I went too far, I'm sorry, Abby. Don't cry." He takes my hands in his and puts them down before grasping my chin and tilting my face up. I meet his soft eyes, hiccupping like a kid.

"I'm sorry I got mad, I'm really sorry. Stop crying, please." He wipes my tears away.

"I'm sorry. I thought you were going to leave me." I wipe my nose in the most unladylike way.

"I'm never leaving you, Abby. I'm sorry I got mad." Mark kisses my temple and gets up. He comes back with a tissue box and hands me one.

"What are we gonna do?" I ask him after wiping my nose.

"What do you want to do?" He puts his arm behind my head on the back of the couch.

"It's your baby, too." I can't help the scolding tone of my voice.

"I know," He caresses my face. "but I'm fine with whatever you do."

"Then why did you yell at me?"

"I would've wanted a little bit more of just you and me, that's the only thing, you know how impulsive I am." He gives me an apologetic look.

"You want me to keep it or not?"

"Do you want to keep it or not?" He obviously avoids my question, returning it to me. He wants me to answer first so he can adapt his?

"Stop that." I scowl at him through my tears, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

"Stop crying." He wipes my nose with another tissue.

"Tell me." I demand.

"Baby, I'm twenty-six, I have a salary, a roof, I can take care of this baby. Now or later, it doesn't change anything for me, but for you..." He caresses my hair tenderly. It's true that having a baby at the age of 18 and 26 isn't the same thing.

"I do want kids with you, I don't think right now is the right moment, for you at least, but if that's what you want, I'd me more than happy to be a dad." He gives me comforting smile, and it warms my heart.

"You wouldn't be mad if I aborted?" I ask quietly, and he shakes his head.

"If you want to keep it, you'll have to tell your parents about us." He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I imagine the scene. Oh, god. I'll end up dead. For dating my math teacher, and for being pregnant. Just the thought of it makes me weep.

"Enough now, Abby. No more crying." He dries my tears again.

"I'm not leaving, in either case. If you want this baby, you can come live with me, I'll take care of both of you. If you want an abortion, I'll pay it for you. You'll come live with me anyway." Oh, Mark!

"You'd do that?" I sniffle.

"I want you happy, Abby. I can't stand you crying, especially when it's my fault." He caresses my cheek with his knuckles.

"I'm here for you, whatever you do. Tell me, what do you want?" His words are soft. Can I have a baby now? Of course my parents are going to react badly, they'll probably hate him, but beside that, is there really any problem? I love him, and he loves me. I give myself a mental slap. We've been together for five minutes, a baby already? Like Christian and Anastasia?

"I don't know anymore." And I'm crying again. Mark wraps his arms around me and pulls me close.

"It's okay, take all your time to think." He says softly. I inhale deeply, and his perfume soothes me. Mark is not leaving me, and for now that's what matters the most.

"Since when do you know?" Mark asks after a moment, and for the first time I can feel the 'pleasure' of not having hidden anything from him.

"Today."

"Why did you say you were on your period?" Oh-oh. Well, the pleasure was short.

"I was scared." I murmur.

"Of me?" He moves so he's looking down at me, his eyes filled with concerned. Well, I was scared of his reaction

"Do I scare you?" His voice is tight. He looks... hurt.

"I was scared of your reaction." I reply quietly. He sighs, and runs his hand through his hair. Oh, I'd do that.

"I'm too impulsive. I'll try, I promise. But you should always talk to me." He says, gazing down at me. His thumb skims over my lower lip.

"I know." I murmur, and he kisses me. I tuck my head under his chin and he holds me close. The whole day that passed cones back to me like a movie. Mark, actually a wounded teenager? Why didn't he tell me? Now I know how he must have felt with me. How did Anastasia deal with Christian? I need to deal those books again. Also, I am pregnant but he's not running away, he even made us official in front of his mother. Progress, progress. Will this baby kill our progress? How about his numerous exes, those older women, do they represent a threat?


	25. Chapter 25

Monday afternoon, almost everything is okay in my life despite the fact that I am pregnant and I still don't know what I'm going to do about it. Exceptionally, well, I hope it's exceptional, Bea sat down at the back of the class in maths, next to Max, because they fought and they want to talk it out. So I am left alone at the front, but it's okay, I have an awesome view of Mark's sweet ass as he writes on the white board.

Suddenly the door swings open and Henry comes in. About time! He hasn't come to school for a whole week! Since prom actually... I sent him tons if text, telling him I'm sorry, asking where he was, but he completely ignored me. The whole class is quiet, surprised to see him today, and at this time. After a whole week he comes back for the last class of the day? Who does that? He looks around. There are three other empty seats, but he decides to sit next to me. Fuck!

I glance at Mark, he's watching him like a hawk as he pulls his stuffs out of his bag. I glance at Bea at the back of the class, she shrugs.

Okay, this is awkward. I don't know what to say to him.

"Where were you?" I whisper to him after a moment.

"I took some time to think." He replies without looking at me. Because of me?

"A whole week?" I ask.

"You know how to count." He says sarcastically. Geez, he's pretty pissed. Can I blame him?

"I'm sorry for last time." I whisper quietly.

"It's okay." He says without looking at me.

"Abigail, I would appreciate it if you kept quiet during my class." Mark bristles from the white board. He's mad at me? He knows it's not my fault he's here, right? Let's not make him even more mad. I try to focus on the class and Henry keeps quiet for a good half an hour.

"Why him, Abby?" He asks me suddenly. I frown at his question.

"I'm not saying I'm better than him, but every single chick here drools over him. I didn't think you did too." What? He thinks I'm like Annabelle or Johanna? I thought he knew me better than that.

"Henry, be quiet." Mark says quietly. His hearing is quite good today. I don't answer Henry's question for now, but we sure have to talk. 15 minutes pass by.

"You owe me an explanation." He whispers, leaning close to me. I know! Can't he wait until the end of the class? Mark is going to kill me.

"Henry, go sit over there." Mark orders, and when I look up at him he's watching Henry impassively. All eyes turn to him.

"Why?" Henry asks, confident, defying, stupid. My heart skips a bit.

"You are chatting during my class." Mark relies calmly.

"Are you sure it's because of that?" He hives him am arrogant smile. What the fuck has gotten into him? That's not the Henry I know.

"Don't talk back to me." Mark is still calm. Henry complies and closes his notebook. He places his book, his pencil case and his calculator in a pyramid and gets up. Mark and I and everyone watch as he swings his bag over his shoulder. Suddenly he bends, leans towards me and kisses my cheek. What the fuck?!

My eyes widen in surprise and horror. I don't even want to look at Mark. Who the fuck is this person and what is he trying to do? I hear loud gasps, followed by a wave of Oh's. Holy shit? Are we in a fucking drama or what?

"Out." Mark bristles, and I hear more gasps, and a few laughs.

"Come on, I was just playing." Henry chuckles. Seriously, I don't recognize him.

"Out of my classroom, now." Mark articulates. Henry leans down towards me again, and for a second I think he's going to kiss me again. Henry sighs and packs his bag.

"Follow me out or I'll tell everything." He whispers. What?! He's blackmailing me now? He wants me to throw a stunt in front of everyone? I can't do this. But Henry is scary, and I feel like I don't have a choice. Silently, shamefully, I start to pack my things.

"Abigail, what are you doing?" Mark asks me. He's fuming. I'll explain him later.

"Following him." I murmur; and the others start to cheer. Oh, ground, swallow me! Mark ignores them and his eyes are glued on me, staring. I timidly get up from my chair.

"I didn't tell you to leave." Mark says dryly. Oh, I can't stand this.

"I know." I mumble.

"Abigail, if you step out of this classroom you're getting yourself into serious problems." Mark threatens. This is too much. I rush out of the class room, followed by Henry. I can hear the other cheer, and Mark calms them down in a second, raising his voice. I turn to Henry.

"Why did you do this?!" I snarl. I'm furious. How could he make me do this? How can he start blackmailing me? We were friends! He was one of my few male friends.

"We have to talk." He replies.

"Are you kidding me?! You made me leave the class ten fucking minutes before the bell!" I hiss. Henry keeps silent, surprised by my outburst.

"He'll have to report me. Couldn't you wait?" I whine. He rolls his eyes at me.

"He won't report you." He says.

"Yes he will!"

"No, he won't. And it wasn't for you, I just wanted to piss him off. I'm sorry." He says. It wasn't for me? Well I'm in trouble new! What's the point of getting mad at him? It's too late. I head towards the stairs.

"Where are you going?" Henry asks me.

"To the dean's office."

"I want to talk to you, let's go on the roof." He says. Really?

"We'll get into more problems if we don't go."

"For heaven's sake, Abigail. He won't report you. Come or I'll tell the whole school about you two." He says, exasperated. He's threatening me again! Fuck! This could get really serious.

"Are you going to start blackmailing me?" I ask carefully.

"Just when you're being unreasonable."

"You are the one being unreasonable." His lips quirk up in amusement, and his eyes narrow themselves.

"I know." He punches my jaw gently, like he always does. Don't smile! Don't smile! You're mad, Abigail. We go up on the roof and sit on one of the three huge cement blocks; the bell rings. Just 5 minutes, he could have waited the 5 minutes!

"It really wasn't worth it." I mutter bitterly.

"Fuck, it was." He snorts. "Did you see his face?" He says, and he looks pretty happy with himself. I glare at him. He notices and his face falls.

"I'm kidding." He says.

"No, you're not. That's the problem." I mutter, and he sighs.

"You're right, I'm not. But I hate that you're mad at me." He whines. I bristle at his words.

"What the fuck did you expect?" I hiss. His eyes widen in surprise. Yes, I can get mad. His eyes search into mine for a moment, then he sighs.

"You're right, that was lame." He rubs his eyebrows.

"I'm really sorry, it won't happen again, I swear." He says, and it looks sincere. Thank god, he understood!

"What did you want to tell me?" I ask him.

"Tell me, why him?" He says. That's what he wants to know?

"Really, I just want to know." He adds. Do I tell him? After what I've done to him... maybe I owe him. He already knows the second biggest secret of my life, what worse can happen now?

"I got raped, two years ago. I don't trust any male expect him, he's the only one." I say as fast as I can. I look away from him, straight at the view that offers the roof. I don't want to see his reaction, I don't want him asking further questions. I feel his surprised stare on me for a long moment.

"What does he don't that others don't?" He asks. Changing subjects? Thanks!

"That I really can't explain, I love him, that's all." I shrug. I really don't know what sets him above the others.

"Not a lot of people know about my past, I'd appreciate if it stayed that way. I led you on, I owed you an explanation. That was an exception." I murmur, looking at him this time so my words will sink in.

"Count on me." He says.

"Cool."

I feel a lot lighter suddenly. Henry has nothing to say now, he knows he can never beat Mark in my heart.

"Why did you skip class for so long?"

"I was... really down after prom, I mean, I chased you for almost the entire year." He says, making my heart swell. But on the other side I don't understand him; I mean, missing school for a week because of me? When the finals are in a month? I find it a bit too much.

"I'm sorry." I murmur, not sure to be sincere.

"I'll get over it, I'll find a way." He shrugs. I pick my nails. Now, what? What does he want?

"Are you really not going to use all of this against me?" I ask carefully.

"Abigail, I am an asshole with your boyfriend, never with you. I'd never do this to you." He says. Even if them getting along would be perfect, I did not expect better from him. He says he's not as asshole with me, but he was very creepy in class.

"Then why did you threaten me in class?" I ask.

"I just really wanted to talk to you, and find a way to make him mad."

"Stop being an asshole with him, please."

"You have magnificent eyes, but I wouldn't do this, not even for them." What is it with my eyes?

"I'm your friend, Abby, not his." He says. Abby? Abby? From him? Abby...

"Abigail, sorry, it slipped." He quickly corrects himself.

"It's okay, now."

"Is it?" He raises surprised eyebrows at me. This is all because of Mark. Shit, Mark! I fish in my bag and pull out my phone. I've received texts from half of the class, asking me what the fuck got into me. I have two missed calls from Bea and five from Mark.

"I should go now." I say, getting up. Henry nods and gets up as well. He grabs my arm as I try to walk away.

"Don't forget, Abby. I'm sorry for earlier, I promise I won't do anything like this again. Stay my friend, please." He says quietly. He looks really sincere, regretful, ashamed even? I know he cares about me, and I care about him. We had an amazing friendship before all of this, I'm sure we can both make some efforts.

"Of course." I smile to him and hug him. It's the first hug we share since we've know each other, it has a special meaning, it means we're going to be better friends. He hugs me back for a brief moment and I pull away. I really need to go now. I turn on my heels to leave but freeze as I see Mark standing in the doorway. Oh, crap! He looks... enraged. He's glaring at Henry, not looking at me, his hands fisted. This is going to be dramatic. Mark starts to pace towards us.

"Mark." I say, trying to calm him down. He's not even looking at me, he's stomping towards Henry, he looks like a bull.

"Abby?" Henry says, urging me. He doesn't sound scared, more like, 'right now it's him, not me'.

"Mark, stop." I raise my voice a little, but he ignores me. He reaches Henry and grabs him by the collar of his shirt.

"What the fuck are you trying to do?" Mark says through gritted teeth. He can't assault him like this, not his student for fucks sake!

"Abby, tell him to let me go." Henry says calmly, but I can tell he's fuming, doing his best to hold himself back.

"Mark, please!" I try to reason him, but he ignores me, and punches Henry in the face. I watch as Henry falls to the floor.

"Aaaargh!" Henry yells in pain, holding his nose and rolling around on the ground.

"Mark!" I scream in horror. No!

"Aaaargh! Fuck! My nose!" Henry cries out in pain. Shit, he's bleeding!

"Mark, are you crazy?!" I briefly look at him, and he's gazing down at Henry, staring impassively. I walk to my bag and proceed a tissue from my front pocket.

"I'm so sorry, Henry." I mumble, placing the tissue on his nose over his hand. Henry places his bloody hand over mine and presses the tissue on his nose.

"Fuck, Abby. This time I didn't do anything." Henry mutters, struggling to sit up.

"I know, I'm sorry." I repeat. Henry swears again and groans, getting up in his own. He glares at Mark, still holding his nose, and for a second, I'm afraid a fight is going to start. Eventually, Henry just stomps away. I turn and follow his angry steps with my eyes before looking at Mark.

He's staring at me impassively. Now I am mad at him. So fucking mad. He knows the last thing he should do to someone who knows about us is making him mad, or hitting him. He knows it, yet he can't refrain his primitive instincts. And he thinks he's in his right, but it was just a misunderstanding, I did nothing wrong, and of course he has to hit before listening to me.

"Are you gonna stare at me forever?" I cross my arms over my chest. Mark puts his hands in his pockets but say nothing, he just stares, his eyes are burning.

"Mark." I call, exasperated. He just stares at me. Okay, this has to be the most childish thing I've ever seen. Where is he trying to get with this? I don't even want to deal with that.

"You are the most maddening man I've ever known, seriously, you're pissing me off." I mutter before walking past him, not even watching his reaction. I've thrown a stupid stunt that doesn't resembles me at all in front of all my classmates, Henry is pissed and he has data about me, Mark, his teacher, punched him in the face, probably breaking his nose; I want to go home.

"Don't let my calmness fool you Abigail," His voice is quiet, soft even, but goes up in a crescendo. "because I am _ **fucking furious**_!" He yells, and it feels like an explosion. I freeze on the spot, shocked.

Everything is silent. The high school and its surroundings, they all heard that. Woah. That was chilling.


	26. Chapter 26

Did that sound really come from him? Slowly, I turn around to look at him. He still has his hands in his pocket, and he's staring at me, cold, impassive. "In my classroom, now." He mutters, walking to me.

"You're not the only one who's mad." I hiss. When he's at my level, he takes my chin in his hand, plunging his cold eyes into mine.

"Don't play with my nerves, Abigail. Don't toy with me, or god so help me, I'll show you who's really mad." He says. If I didn't know him, I would be scared. I know he's overreacting, but I shouldn't make him even more mad, he might yell again. Without a word, I turn on my heels and walk to the stairs, using the occasion to wipe my bloody hands. Blood, again, on me. Mark has to stop fighting. Mark follows me silently as we walk back to his classroom.

"The whole school heard you yell." I say once I'm inside. Mark closes the door behind me and locks it. Jeez! Mark takes a chair from the front row and places it in front of his desk. His stuffs are still on it, I bet he stormed out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang, even before the students.

"Sit." He orders. Counsel with the principal? I roll my eyes at him but obey. Mark sits at his desk, facing me.

"Explain to me what the fuck happened." He demands, his voice calm. He's going to feel really stupid.

"He said he would tell everything about us if I didn't follow him." I explain to him, expecting to see his face fall as he realizes how he overreacted.

"I'm not talking about that, I guessed it myself, thank you." He replies. Now I feel stupid. I frown at him.

"I'm talking about what I saw." He says.

"What did you see?"

"Him, in your arms. Not the contrary. You hugged him." He says. So, that's why he freaked out? That's why he yelled at me? This is ridiculous.

"Are you laughing at me?" Mark asks, exasperated. I try to refrain the unconscious giggle fit I was having.

"No, I wouldn't dare." I reply.

"I think you are."

"Look. You just yelled at me, so loud that the entire school heard you, because, I hugged another boy?" I ask him.

"No. Because you hugged that boy in particular after what he did to you and to me." He says.

"It's not that simple."

"I asked you to explain."

"He said he did this to make you mad," I explain.

"But I got mad at him and he apologized, sincerely. It's you he's mad at not me. He's always been a good friend, and I think he can make some efforts for me."

"That's why you hugged him?"

"Because after we talked it out the old Henry was back." I reply. Mark keeps silent for a moment, and his lips curl upward as he snorts.

"I thought you were smarter than that."

"Are you saying I'm an idiot?"

"Don't you ever touch him again, ever." He sounds hard, as bossy as ever.

"It was a friendly hug-" Mark bangs his fist on the table, cutting me off."

"I don't give a single fuck about what kind of fucking hug that fucking was. You don't fucking touch him, and you don't get close to him anymore."  He hisses. Here he is again! Trying to control me because he's not happy with the way I am.

"Are those orders?" I ask. Mark smirks at me.

"Here's the bright girl I know." He says sweetly, way too sweetly. I'm boiling with anger.

"I am not stupid." I articulate, leaning towards him.

"I never said anything like that." He holds his palms up in defense. He can be such an ass sometimes!

"Stop toying with me, Mark." I hiss, getting up from my seat and glaring down at him.

"Stay away from Henry." He gets up as well, and now he's towering over me. Who the fuck does he think he is? He thinks I'm going to accept getting ordered around just because mister Tuan is jealous?

"What authority do you have on me?" I ask him.

"I am your boyfriend."

"Let me reform my question: what will happen if I don't follow your orders?"

"Oh, no Abigail, you're not." His tone is weary. Exactly.

"I don't have any orders to receive from you."

"Stay away from that boy." He repeats.

"And why should I? Because you're jealous and possessive?"

"Because he is in love with you, mad at me, and emotionally unstable." Emotionally unstable? Because I turned him down? Oh please! I don't know who's overreacting today, Henry or Mark. What does he know anyway? I'm fuming with rage.

"He's not a psychopath!" I shout at him.

"Yeah, and Liam is not a rapist!" He shouts back at me. My hand goes before I can even think, and I slap him across the face. My mouth drops, I am shocked. By what he just said, and by what I've just done. How can he use Liam as a weapon against me? Tears spring to my eyes. How could he? Him? What a bastard! I pick up my bag from the floor

"Abigail, I'm not done." Mark says.

"We'll, I am." I reply, trying to sound as confident and severe as possible despite the tears rushing down my cheeks.

"I am done with you, I don't ever want to see you again." My voice cracks. I don't want him to see me cry. I make a move to walk away but he holds me back.

"No, you're not going anywhere." He says, grabbing my wrist.

"Don't touch me!" I jerk my hand away from him. I don't want him to touch me.

"Abigail, wait." He says, grabbing me upper arms to keep me still.

"Let me go!" I hiss, trying to wriggle out of his grip.

"Listen to me!" He shouts, shaking me. Suddenly I don't have the strength to pretend anymore. I want to curl myself into a ball and cry.

"How could you say something so horrible to me?" I sob in my hands.

"I know, I did it on purpose." Mark says, his voice softer. What?! I push him away from me.

"We know very little about people, even our nearest and dearest. I'm sure you never imagined Liam would..." He sighs, not finishing his sentence. He closes his eyes as if in pain, and when his opens them, he looks sad.

"I couldn't protect you from Liam, and it haunts me." He says quietly. That's not a reason to say that to me!

"I have nightmares sometimes, I can't get the picture out of my head, it hurts me." He says. Nightmares? I didn't know. Still, what's the point of saying such things to me? I feel, betrayed.

"But I promised myself I will protect you from now on." He murmurs.

"I know I crossed a line with this, but I believe you are smart enough to understand." What is it with my intelligence today?

"Please, listen to me. It's not only my jealousy speaking."

"Please, stay away from him. I only have your wellbeing in mind, you know I care, I always worry, always." Yes, I know he cares. He cares too much. Nightmares... It's not fair, it's my past, not his. I want him to care, but not like this. Mark takes me in his arms and hold me close.

"I'm sorry I had to say that, you know I hate making you cry. I hate it." He whispers.

"If I follow your logic, then I shouldn't even be with you." I sniffle. Mark pulls away from me, his eyes big with alarm.

"No, not me. You know me, you know I'll never hurt you." He says, and I nod.

"I don't think Henry will ever hurt me. I think it's an excuse." I say.

"No it's not. There are tons of boys here that like you, but they are no threat to me."

"Why is Henry a threat? Because you decided so?"

"No. I can't really explain, I just don't feel him." He hugs me again. What is he so scared of?

"Please just trust me." He begs. Oh, I do trust him, blindly, infinitely.

"Okay." I murmur, pulling away from him so I can wipe my nose on the back of my hand.

"Use my shirt." He murmurs. Why does he always say that? I shake my head. Mark cups my face.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He whispers, and I nod weakly. He was being a real ass, but I can really be stubborn sometimes. I know he's doing this for me, and he's right, you can never know how people truly are. Expect for Mark, I know he loves me. I would never have thought Liam would rape, just like I don't think Bea could betray me, or like I'm sure Henry is not an asshole. If Mark is that suspicious about him, I must listen to him. But deep down I know I can't be suspicious about Henry, I know him too much. I guess I'll just have to try. How can I? I don't know, I'll find a way, for him. Hi thumb skims over my bottom lip.

"Your lips are so soft when you cry." He whispers. Then kiss them, you idiot! He grabs my chin and tilts my head back, and I know he's going to kiss me hard.

"I'm still mad at you." He lets me go.

"What?!"

"I was furious, less now, but still." What? I was mad too! But all I want now is to make up with him. I want to be in his arms, I want to forget about everything for a moment.

"Can't you swallow it?" I ask, and he shakes his head. That-

"Then I'm still mad at you too." I say, hoping to make him react.

"Good." What?

"You're not going to cheer tomorrow, are you?" He asks me suddenly.

"Practice starts next week, why?" I front.

"You shouldn't go to practice." He says, his hand caressing my stomach. Oh, the baby. Why does he care? Is he trying to say he wants me to keep it? I need to figure out before next because next week we start the preparations for the summer performance in front of the whole school and the final evaluation. In this school athlete has to pass an evaluation to get his degree, it counts as much as the school subjects. The next weeks are going to be intense, I need to make up my mind.

"I'm not sure I want to keep it." I brush his hand away.

"That's not my point. Pregnancy doesn't start when you decide you want a baby. Whether you want this baby or not, you are pregnant and you have to take better care of yourself, miscarriage is a very painful experience." He scolds. Miscarriage!

"If you want an abortion, I'll pay it for you. No miscarriage."

"I get it." I snap. Abortion, miscarriage, those words are so ugly.

"Good. Go home now. Go rest." He says dryly. I sigh deeply.

"Mark, can't we drop this? This is ridiculous." I whine. This man is exhausting.

"You've had enough for today." He says. So he's planning on staying mad at me until tomorrow?

"You want to hatch your anger until tomorrow?" I ask, and he sighs, exasperated. I really don't understand his game. He feels guilty for making me cry but not enough to go easy on me.

"Mark, you like fighting with me?"

He frowns.

"I hate fighting with you."

"But you want to fight tomorrow." I say, emphasizing the ridiculousness of it. He sighs in defeat.

"Fine. Tell me, why are you mad at me?" He asks, taking a step away from me.

"You punched Henry in the face." I mutter.

"I know what I did." He replies, exasperated.

"You overreacted." I articulate. He rolls his eyes, turns away from me and runs both of his hands in his hair.

"I thought we had just agreed on this!" He says, walking to his desk before sitting down.

"No, I'm not talking about you not wanting me to talk to him, but you punching him in the face." I reply, walking around his desk to face him.

"He knows for us." I try to reason him.

"He wants what's mine." He says dryly. His?!

"Do you even hear yourself?" I breathe, shocked. He lets his impotent feelings direct his life? A grown man like him show at least know the consequences of his actions! If I can think about it, what can't he?

"You are his teacher, and you hit him. Do you know what would happen if he ever opened his mouth?" Mark just sighs in response. I feel like talking to some kind of... teenager.

"You'd lose your job!" I exclaim.

"If he ever spoke about us we would be in the medias. Some people will find our story romantic, some people would even write books about us, some will insult us and humiliate us, we would be on the TV, in the papers, our lives will be ruined! Mark, don't you see that?" I'm breathless when I'm done talking, my blood getting more and more heated with each passing second.

"I do. I just don't care." He shrugs. God dammit! Fuck!

"For fuck's sake, Mark!" I bang my hand on the table, not impressing him.

"You don't get the threat Henry represents. And your risking your job and my future because the three years old mercurial little boy that you are doesn't want him to touch his toys!" I shout at him.

"You're not a teenager in your head, you're a fucking child!" I finish. Ah! It feels so good to yell at him, even if I don't have the same effect on him. Mark watches m impassively, laid back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as if he was enjoying a show.

"Are you done?" He asks calmly.

"Yes!" I snap.

"Why do you let him call you Abby?" He asks me.

"That's what you're reproaching me for?"

"He called you Abby in front of me, three times." He says.

"That's why you were furious?"

"I still am."

I tilt my head to the side and gauge his expression. I wouldn't be mad if he told me it was a joke, but he's dead serious, staring at me impassively. This man is so tiring. I don't know, I don't know, I don't have the strength right now. He's such a child, and I'm saturating. I really don't want to deal with his immature side.

"Mark, you really have to grow up." I sigh, picking my bag from the floor.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. I don't want to have this discussion with you. Calm yourself down alone, I have nothing to say." I mutter without looking at him. Mark gets up as I walk to the door, and I know he's going to hold me back. He grabs my arm, turns me around and pins me on the door. The surprise makes me drop my bag on the floor. I gasp as he takes my face in his hands and kisses me hard. Our teeth collide first but then he forces his tongue into my mouth, sucking on my lips at the same time. He's wild and aggressive, mad, furious, and so am I; that's maybe why I love him kissing me like this. It's like our angers are synchronized and equal, and it creates a hot, passionate yet perfect harmony. My fingers lost in his hair, I kiss him back the better I can, hungry, aggressive, mad, in love.

Mark pushes away from me, as breathless as I am.

"For the love of God, Abigail." He bends, puts his hands on his knees, and tries to catch his breath. I lean against the door for support, panting, feeling like I've ran a marathon. That was... that was...very intense. He runs his hand through his hair. Could he look even sexier?

"You are the most maddening, frustrating, infuriating girl I've ever met." Mark says, staring at me intently.

I can feel it, I can see it, this weird atmosphere between us, that mutual attraction.

"You like it?" I pant. Mark takes my hands and pins them high above my head, holding me still with his hips.

"Do I like it?" He growls, flexing his hips against me. I feel his erection straining against my belly. Oh, this man wants me. I want him too. He kisses me below my ear and takes my earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently. He kisses me down my neck, his lips sending tingles everywhere in my body.

"Always defying me, testing me." He mutters against my skin. He takes my necklace between his teeth and slides it down, exposing my scars. His hungry lips latch at them, licking, sucking...

"Ah!" Biting... biting hard. My libido explodes, I want him inside of me, now.

"Quiet. The school isn't empty." Mark hisses, I whimper in response. Mark fumbles with the buttons of my uniform, his scattered breath tickling the akin of my neck as his mouth works magic on me. I slide my hand in between our bodies, I feel his pecks, his holy abs, and then I feel him, his hard bulge, his anger, his desire for me. I give him a hard squeeze, and stoke him. I love feeling him, it makes the apprehension build up, and my body heats up just at the thought of him inside of me. Mark groans in response and pushes towards my hand as he opens my shirt wide, revealing him my black bra. He kisses my jaw line, then his lips meet mine, and his hands cup my breasts. Yes, there.

He starts to fondle them, his tongue as passionate as his tongue in my mouth, and my hand works harder on his arousal. He slides his hands under my bra, and I can feel his calloused hands on my bare sink. His thumbs skim over my nipples, and I moan into his mouth, giving his erection a hard squeeze. The hair hisses between his teeth, and it's a sound I love. He teases my nipples just like I live him to, and Ah! I feel it there, in my center. Suddenly, Mark sinks to his knees, leaving me breathlessness and hungry. He places his hands on my knees and slides them up my thigh, hitching my skirt up before grasping my panties. He yanks them down and within a nanosecond his mouth is on me.

I gasp in surprise; it feels like an assault. An extremely sweet assault. His mouth loses no time and he starts to devour me with passion, showing no mercy. His hands run up and down my legs, head towards my backside, giving it a hard squeeze. And I'm on fire down there, sparkles of pleasure threatening to make me explode. I cover my mouth with my hand, moaning into my palm as Mark worships me passionately, my other hand tangled in his hair. He groans, low in his throat, the sound radiates inside of me, and I bite my palm to keep me quiet. I raise my leg and place it over his shoulder, inviting him closer as his tongue teases my entrance. My hips start to move on their own, back and forth, savoring relishing, loving his torture. Suddenly, he's gone.

He's at my level again, claiming my mouth with his. I whimper against his lips, kicking me panties off. I force him to walk backwards and he pulls me close, letting me guide him. I sit him down at his desk and climb onto his lap. He kisses me and fondles my breast as I fumble with his belt. I zip his pants down and reach in his boxers, letting him spring free. And as I sink onto him, he squeezes my breasts and groans, making me whimper. This fullness... It's amazing. Marks hands come down to my hips as I start to move up and down, steadily, setting the rhythm.

"Oh, baby." Mark whispers, leaving bites as his lips dance along my jaw. Yes! I grind onto him, moving my hips in circles, hitting all my walls as I do. Mark loves, I love, and start to build inside. This familiar crescendo starts deep down inside of me. Friction creates sparkles, and I know I'm going to explode soon. Mark traps my lips between his, kissing me passionately, almost violently. My tongue meets his in a passionate battle, I want to subdue him to me. Mark smacks my backside, and I yelp.

"Ah!" I moan into his mouth. He takes control of me, guiding my movements, possessing me with his mouth. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull so he tips his head back, and start to rush towards my end, the pleasure becoming unbearable. I moan, my lips against his, his heavy breathes tickling my mouth, and I move faster, harder.

"Give it to me, baby." Mark groans, his voice tight. No! I don't want him ordering me around. I fight it back the better I can, squeezing my thighs around him as I keep grinding down onto him. My thrusts up to meet my movements and groans; he knows what I'm doing.

"Let go, baby." He rasps against my lips, his fingers digging in my flesh. I moan incoherently, feeling my imminent orgasm coming. Mark places one of his hands flat on my lower belly, almost reaching from hip to hip, his thumb heading south, he starts to rub my clit in fast circles. No! And I'm gone too far to come back, and I detonate around him, his name rolling off my tongue as my body speaks before my mind.

"Oh, baby!" Mark cries out, rather loudly, as he finds his release. I collapse on his, exhausted, but more than satisfied. That was incredible; and we finally got our classroom sex! Mark has his arms wrapped around my waist, holding me against him, and I have my chin on his shoulder and my arms curled around his neck. I slowly go back to a silent peace. I don't want to say anything; I don't know if anything is fixed. Is it okay to have sex in a middle of a fight? What to do afterwards? It's true that I feel a lot calmer now, but I think we still need to talk things out.

I glance at my panties on the floor in front of the door. I flush alone. Jeez, he was so mad. Because of my name? He must be happy to know I don't care about my name anymore. I have to remind him; he'll understand.

"When people called me Abby, I would always think of Liam. I would hear him call my name." I say quietly, fingers finding his hair at the nape of his neck. His hair is so soft there. I hear him sigh deeply, but he doesn't say anything.

"Now it's you I think of. It's because of you. My mom, Bea, they would be so thrilled to know I've made progress." I move to look down at him. He eyes me for a moment, then he looks away. He shifts in his seat. Oh. I push with my feet and lift myself off him, letting him pull out of me. He put his...in his boxers. Then he sneaks both of his arms around me and nuzzles the valley between my breasts. He drops a soft kiss there, then on the tip base of my neck, and he kisses each of my scars in turns. I hold him against me.

"Your parents, Bea, and me. That's all." He sighs.

"Don't let anyone else call you like that, please. I won't touch Henry again, I promise." He says, almost pleading. I can hear a point of...despair? In his voice. I pull away from him and look at him in the eyes.

"Does it mean that much to you?" I ask. He nods weakly, his eyes shining with sincerity. There he is, my wounded teenager. I can tell he cares a lot, but why? Why does it touch him so bad?

"Okay." I murmur before hugging him again. We stay like that for a moment.

"You're gonna report me?" I ask in the middle of my thoughts.

"Of course not." He murmurs.

"You're gonna report Henry?"

Mark says silent for a moment.

"I want to." He says. I can't help a small chuckle.

"Don't." I say.

"Okay." I can sense his grin. He's grinning!

"Seriously, Mark," I look down at him, and he tries to hide his amusement.

"What was the point of getting that mad?" I ask him, and he shrugs.

"We got to fuck." He says.

"Fuck?"

"We weren't making love, Abigail." This time he fails to hide his amusement. So, it was my first tine fucking!

"I love fucking." I grin.

"And I love it too, with you." He kisses my collarbone. I hug him once more. Oh, my Mark.

"I hate fighting with you." I pout.

"I hate fighting with you too." He sighs.

"You know, I do understand why you were mad. It's just the way you deal with things. You're so impulsive." I explain. I understand his jealousy, but the punch, and the yelling, it was too much.

"I've never felt like this before. It's new for me, but I'm trying." Mark says. I look down at him.

"You've never felt like what?"

"That jealous, that angry. I don't know, it's weird." He frowns.

"You've never been jealous before?"

"Not like this. I've never really... You never... You're making this new side of me come out, it's unsettling." He shrugs, struggling to speak his mind.

"It's my fault?"

"Your fault? I don't know if it's something bad." He says. I take a moment to register that, placing my chin on his shoulder again. So, he's not that impulsive usually? Am I that bad as a girlfriend? How can it not be bad? He acts like a child because of me.

"Stop over-thinking things." Mark murmurs.

"Mmmh."

"What if you were wrong about Henry?" I ask quietly. I will be losing a friend after all.

"You can't be sure about anything before it happens. Don't run the risk, Abigail. Stay away from him, I have a bad presentiment." He says. A bad presentiment? He thinks Henry is going to do something? Or does he think I'm gonna leave him?

"Stop calling me Abigail." I murmur quietly. I know he's still mad. I didn't think it meant so much to him. He doesn't let go easily.

"I love you." I whisper before kissing his temple. He sighs deeply, and I know he's giving in.

"Oh, Abby, Abby, my Abby. What am I going to do with you?" He whispers. I look down at him and tilt my head to the side innocently.

"Make love to me this time?"


	27. Chapter 27

Mark and I are chatting in the staircase in the scientific block.

"Miss Kraige, that's quite a right arm that you have." Mark says, quite appreciatively, caressing the cheek I slapped yesterday. I laugh at him.

"Does it hurt?" I ask, and he makes a pretty pout.

"A kiss will make it better." He taps his cheek with his finger, asking for a kiss. I pull him by the collar of his jacket and kiss his cheek, everywhere, big kisses that make him smile and giggle like a fool. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him on the lips. He kisses me back, tender yet playful, his lips flicking against mine. The bell announcing the lunch break rings, but I ignore it. I kiss his earlobe, and I can sense him checking his watch.

"As much as I would love to kiss you all day, I have to go." He says, pulling away from me.

 

"Just a little bit more." I plead between two kisses. I capture his mouth with my lips to prevent him from retorting. He pushes away from me.

"I'm afraid I'll have to refuse your offer." He says, and I whine.

"What do you have to do?" I ask.

 

"I'm eating out with Lauren and Mr. Ryan." He says.

"My cheer coach and my sciences teacher? Is that a way to stalk me?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

"I want to make sure you're a good girl." He smirks. A good girl? I like him calling me like that. I remember that day when he fed me vanilla yogurt. My muscles clench deep down in my belly.

"You don't need to ask my teachers to know that." I put my index on his lips, and he kisses it. My finger skims over his lower lip, and I slide it down his chin, down his neck, between his collarbones, his pecks, and he looks down as I run it down his abdomen, stopping right above his belt loop. He looks up at me, and his eyes have darkened. I hook my finger inside the waistline of his pants and pull him to me, capturing his lips with mine. Then I kiss his earlobe, his jawline, his neck.

"I'm a good, good girl." I whisper as I nip at his throat. I can be good to him. I remember the last time I tasted him. It was so long ago, it's been weeks. Suddenly, I'm have a yearning desire for him. I run both of my hands up his toned chest, then slide then down again, and I start massaging him through his pants. That should keep him with me, right? He grabs my wrist.

 

"You're being very bad, right know." He whispers, his eyes burning. He takes my chin in his hand and tips my head back.

 

"I really have to go, and you're torturing me." He says. Torturing him? I like torturing him. I take his hand and place them on my hips.

"How about we stay after class," I wrap my arms around his neck.

"and I'll show you how good I can be." I whisper. Mark takes my lower lip between his teeth and tugs.

"You love classroom sex, don't you?" He says, his voice hoarse.

"Only with you." I bite down on my lip, the memory of yesterday making my blood boil.

"Well that's given, since I am your first." He says. Suddenly I want to play.

"Where did you get that idea from?" I tease, tracing the line of his neck with my index. Marks lips quirk.

"How very brazen, miss Kraige. I am going to need a name, a number, and an address." He says, making me laugh. I kiss his cheek and slip away from him, still giggling.

"Bon appetit." I sing, climbing up the stairs.

"This discussion is not over." I turn to look at him, and he's smiling from ear to ear. I blow him a kiss and run away before he decides to chase me, I know he could.  When I reach the top of the stairs and walk in the hallway, I notice Henry rumbling through his locker. I have to corner him.

"Henry?" I calk walking to him. He looks at me, recognizes me, and then returns to whatever he's doing.

"Hi, mushroom." He sighs.

"Why do you never answer my text?" I ask him.

"I was busy yesterday. You said you have something to tell me?" He replies coldly. I wanted to talk about yesterday, and tell him I would take my distances from him. I could do it now, but he looks strange to day. As if something died in his eyes, he looks, lifeless.

"Henry, what's up? You're acting so weird." I ask him. He closes his locker.

"I have to talk to you." He says. Oh.

"Roof?" I propose, and he nods. Why is he so strange? He wants me to stay his friend, but then he doesn't answer my text and acts cold towards me. I feel bad because I'm going to officially tell him to back away from me.

We go to the roof and sit where we are used to.

"Tell me. What's wrong?" I ask him. Henry sighs and rubs his anxiously. I've never seen him like this.

"You first." He breathes, pinching the bridge of his noise.

"No, tell me. You're worrying me." I reply. He closes his eyes, exasperated.

"No, Abby. You tell me first." He's almost hissing. Woah.

"Okay, first of all, I am sorry that Mark punched you. He's too impulsive." I start, but he doesn't react. He just stares at the ground.

"Henry, you have to understand I'm in a very delicate position."

"You know, you're my closest male friend. I've never been close to boys. And I know it's not going to be the same now. I want to do my best to stay as close to you as possible, but I think it's gonna be really complicated."

"Mark doesn't want me to talk to you, but at the same time I'm worried about you. I care about you, Henry."

"Say something." I plead. Henry rubs his eyes nervously, and then he sniffles. He's crying?!

"I'm sick." He whispers.

"What?" I grab his shoulder to make him look at me, but he doesn't move.

"I'm too tired. It's not worth it." He puts his head in his hand and pulls at his hair.

"What are you talking about? You have a disease?" I ask. He looks up at the horizon, his hands on each side of his nose.

"My head," He runs his hand in his hair.

"is full of... thoughts. Bad thoughts." He looks at me, and his eyes are wide and teary. Henry crying is heartbreaking.

"It's like I have ten other me inside, and they're always fighting." His voice is shaky, and his throat is tight.

"I don't understand what you're saying." I murmur. Henry sighs, and puts his head back in hands. Fuck, how could I not see it?

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask him.

"I want to be normal. But I'm not." He says.

"Henry, I thought you could tell me everything."

"Tell you I'm fucking crazy?!" He hisses, looking up at me. Crazy? I remain silent.

"I'm sick of this. I can't." He sobs.

"Henry, please explain to me. Tell me." I plead.

"I've killed people before." He says.

"What?"

"I like killing people. It's thrilling." He breathes. He looks horrified. What? No!

"Blood. Screams. Cold corpses. It's my heaven." He shrugs apologetically. No! It can't be true. Not him, not Henry.

"When you rejected me, I wanted to kill you." He says. Kill me? Run, Abigail. Leave, now.

"But I love you too much to kill you. Not you, I'll never hurt you." He adds. Fuck! He's in love with you, mad at me, and emotionally unstable. Mark saw it, but I didn't. His bad presentiment, I bet he didn't imagine that. Neither did I. Henry ruffles through his bag, and I get up from cement block. He pulls out a silver gun and turns around to face me.

"No, please!" I scream, holding my hands up. Where the fuck did he get this? Henry frowns at me.

"Hey, calm down." He murmurs. I glance anxiously at his weapon. How can I stay calm? Am I going to die?

"You didn't hear what I just said? I'll never hurt you." He says. I don't believe him anymore.

"Since prom, the urge, it's still there. I need to kill." He says. Tears spring to my eyes. I'm going to die.

"Sit back down." He orders. No, please, no.

"Henry, put that down, please." I plead, tears rushing down my face.

"Fuck, Abby! I'm not going to shoot you, sit back down!" He yells, startling me. I obey, and sit next to him. He reaches out to me and I flinch. He freezes for a moment, then he wipes my tears away. I hiccup.

"You wouldn't date a killer. But the urge is still there." His caresses my face with his knuckles. Oh, it can't be possible. It can't be happening, no. Not again, not that. Henry grabs the back of my hand, and he presses his lips against mine.

"Mmh!" I moan, but let him do. I'm paralyzed by the fear. I address a silent prayer to god, begging him to stop all of this. Henry pulls away from me, his eyes closed. Why are you doing this to me? Why did I do to deserve this?

"Your lips are so soft." He whispers. He opens his eyes, and his thumb caresses my trembling bottom lip. He sighs and sits up straight, facing the horizon. He takes a deep, long breath, and closes his eyes.

"I need to stop. For you, Abby." He brings the gun to his temple, and there is a loud detonation. I jump, bringing my hands to my mouth. Henry lays on my knees, unconscious, maybe dead.

Everything is silent. All I can hear is the erratic beating of my heart, and my thought bumping inside my head. What just happened? Did he just shoot himself? Because of me? This thing that just happen in films or fanfictions, just happened to me? I'm paralyzed. I sit there without moving, my hands over my mouth, and my eyes lost in the horizon. I hear rushed footsteps and muffled voices.

I see feet in front of me, four persons are there?

"Call an ambulance."

Oh, it's Mark.

"Lauren, call the police!"

Always, always yelling. Someone runs away, they are only three.

"Go make sure no student come here."

Another person leaves, and Mark appears in front of me, crouching down.

"Abigail." His tone is wary. I think he's holding my shoulders, but I feel numb.

"Abigail, what happened?"

My scalp prickles, so much that I think I'm overheating.

"Abigail." He shakes me.

"Abigail, answer me."

"Abby." Mark calls. I need to stop. For you, Abby. I can see Henry putting his gun on his temple, and his face cringe right before he pulls the trigger. The noise. I don't want to hear it. I cover my ears and scream on top of my lungs, as loud as I can to cover the sound. Not again, not again.

"Abby, calm down!" Mark shakes me. Henry is still on me. No! I squeeze my eyes shut and scream louder. Go away!

"Abby!"

_No! Go away!_

"James, help me."

I scream and scream, and suddenly I feel Henry's weight off me. And then I'm standing.

"Abby, stop!" I open my eyes and Mark is dragging me away. Thank god.

"Are you hurt?" I turn and look at Henry. He's in the same position as before, but I'm not under him.

"Abby, look at me." Mark stands in front of me, blocking my panoramic vision. Now, I see him.

"Tell me what happened." He says. What happened? Where to start... I wipe invisible sweat off my face, but my hand actually does get moist. I look down at my hand. Blood! I wipe my cheeks and check my hands, they're red with blood. I look down at my clothes. Blood, everywhere. There are pink bloody bits on my skirt. His brain exploded on me? My stomach twist, and I manage to turn away before vomiting on the floor.

"Fuck!" Mark curses before holding my hair as I empty my stomach. I cough, and when I sit up, all my strength leaves me. My legs feel like jelly. The adrenaline rush is over. I threaten to fall backwards, but Mark catches me. Suddenly I feel a sharp, horrible pain in my lower belly.

"Ah!" I wince. What's going on?

"What?" Mark breathes. I untuck my shirt from my skirt and lift it. I have a hole on the right side of my lower belly, just next to my hip bone. It's bleeding? A bullet? I look up at Mark, incredulous.

"Mark..." His name comes out as a plea. I'm helpless, it's too much. Help me.

"No." Mark breathes, his voice barely audible. My legs give up on me, but Mark holds me close.

"No, Abby, no!" He yells, laying me down on the floor. It hurts. It fucking hurts so bad. It hurts so munch, the pain radiates everywhere, like a poison, paralyzing me.

"Call an ambulance!" Mark turns to Ryan, and I hear his fast footsteps as he runs to the door.

"Shit." Mark mutters under his breath, taking his jacket off in a hurry. He puts it into a ball and presses it against my wound. Ah! It hurts terribly, the pain is unbearable. And I try to breathe it away, but my body is completely overwhelmed by pain, and my head is in panic. Am I going to die?

"Baby, stay with me, okay?" Marks alarmed eyes look at me. I try to nod weakly.

"Don't fall asleep." He says, and I nod. I want to tell him not to press so hard, but my throat is tight, and I can't steady my breathing.

"Oh, Abby. What happened..." It's almost a sob. I try to reply, but all I manage to get out is some shaky hiccups.

"Slow, baby. Breathe." Mark murmurs, and I try, I really try. All I can sense, all I can feel, all I am is pain, and all I can do is suffer. The pain is metaphysical, slowly taking control of me, possessing me, oppressing me, smothering me. I'm smothered by pain, and at some point it starts blocking my ears. Every sound is now muffled, and I feel better.

"Baby, stay with me."

Relaxing, yes I need to relax. Let the pain do whatever it wants to do. It's way stronger than me, stronger than my will to stay with Mark.

"No, baby, no. Please, no."

There... There... It's better like that. I can feel the pain drift away.

"Abby, open your eyes. Please, baby."

Oh, Mark. I can't.

"Fuck, Abby! You stay with me, you hear me?! Fucking stay with me!"

Always mad at me... I can hear him yelling at me, and for once I don't have to hear it until he's done. The sounds, the sensations, even the pain, they all fade away. See? Relaxing was the right thing to do. Darkness sinks in.


	28. Chapter 28

A cheeseburger. I. Need. A. Cheese. Burger. My eyes flutter open. I'm hungry as fuck. The first thing I see is the grey ceiling. It all comes back to me. The gunshot. The pain. I know I'm in a hospital. I squint and blink, because my eyes hurt a bit. My hip aches. A face appears above me, towering over me. Brown wide eyes and parted lips, my mouth quirks.

"Mark." I rasp. He's here. Oh, I must be dreaming. He sighs in deep relief, closing his eyes.

"Oh, baby, I was so scared." It's almost a sob, his voice is barely audible. He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. As he does, I smell his perfume. He smells good. I wouldn't want to wake up to anyone else. But how come he's there?

"What are you doing here?" I whisper as he gazes down at me. Suddenly, the door swings open. My mom walks in, in the middle of hanging up her phone. Shit! Mark doesn't remove his hand from my hair. She sees me and freezes.

"Abigail?" She breathes in a mix of relief and incredulity.

"Mom." I breathe. She closes the door and walks to me, on the other side of my bed.

"Oh, baby girl." She murmurs, hugging my head.

"I was so scared. - she kisses my forehead- How do you feel?" She asks, gazing down at me. Did she notice?

"It hurts." I place my hand on my wound over my blanket. Mark removes his hand from my hair.

"I'll go call a nurse." He says before turning on his heels. I watch as he leaves. He's dressed in a black T-shirt but I recognize his jeans and shoes. I glance at my mom, and she caresses my cheek.

"He told me everything." She says. The incident?

"What?" I rasp.

"About you and him. I know everything." She replies. My eyes widen in horror. No!

"Everything?" I ask, and she nods. Shit! Why did he have to tell her? She purses her lips.

"Let's be clear, I'm tolerating this, not approving. We'll have to talk later." She stares at me, impassible. I know she's mad, but she's holding it back.

"Thank you." I whisper, my eyelids sagging in relief.

"Don't thank me. You'll have to deal with your father." She replies. Shit, dad! Oh, no. He's going to kill me. Before I can ask my mom if she told him already, the door swings open. A blond young woman enters my room, followed by Mark. She has blue eyes, like me. I like her nails. Her cheeks are really pink, I think she's blushing. Mark closes the door behind them and stays at the back of the room while the young woman walks to me.

"Good evening, Abigail. I'm nurse Stephanie. Do you know where you are?" Her voice is husky, it's really attractive. Why is she blushing?

"Yes, hospital." I reply. My mom joins Mark at the back of the room, giving nurse Stephanie some space.

"How do you feel?" The nurse asks me. She glances in my mom and Mark's direction and smiles to herself; she turns puce. I frown at her.

"I'm thirsty. And my wound hurts." I reply to her.

"I'll get you some water once I've checked your vitals. Dr Green will take care of your wound." She says. She takes a quick glance in my mom and Mark's direction. Mark is typing on his phone, their eyes meet, and she turns her eyes away as she checks the machines by my bed. I want to roll my eyes at her. Bitch, he's mine. He can impulsive and bossy and mercurial, but he's mine. I scowl at the entire planet as she does her work.

"Your blood pressure is fine." She says, releasing my arm.

"Do you want me to remove your catheter?" She asks me. Her words bounce in my head.

"My what?" I ask. Her eyes look away from mine.

"Erm..." She looks for a way to explain it to me. Mark is smiling arrogantly at the back, amused. I narrow my eyes at him. My catheter? I have a what? Oh!

"Yes, please." I can't refrain the embarrassed blush that heats my face. I can go to the toilets alone! Well, maybe not. But I don't want a catheter.

"Okay. If you could wait outside for a minute." She pipes up, turning to my mom and Mark. They obey and walk out of the room, leaving us alone.

As the nurse does what she has to do, something occurs me.

"I have a tampon on?" I frown. She removes her head from between my legs.

"Yes. You're on your period." She gives me a sympathetic smile.

"I lost the baby?" I whisper.

"Yes. I'm sorry." She says. So, the baby's gone. I don't know how to feel about it. It wasn't its fault, it didn't have to end like this. Okay, I'm not sure I would have kept it, but, it didn't have to go like this. And Mark, how does he feel about it? He must know. My mom must be aware too. And I'm afraid to talk about it. I don't want to know.

Letting Stephanie finish her business, I initiate an introspection. I don't really want to go to deep in my feelings, because I don't want to feel anything. I know myself, if I surrender in front of my feelings, I'll sink into darkness. I'll have to talk about it now or later, Mark is gonna insist. What will I say to him? How do I feel about the baby being gone anyway? I don't feel that sadness of losing a baby, or the pain. But I feel like my baby didn't deserve to go like this. I didn't have the choice, but the result isn't that saddening nor joyful. It's not joyful at all. I was my baby, my choice to make. Yes, the pregnancy perturbed me and it prevented me from growing attached to the baby, but things could have been different. It's unfair.

Stephanie leaves and Mark and my mom come back inside the room. Do I tell them?

"What time is it?" I ask. Mark checks his watch as he walks to me.

"It's almost nine." He says.

"I stayed unconscious for that long?"

"Yes. You're a stubborn little thing." He replies, his tone hiding a point of bitterness. What's up with him? Nurse Stephanie comes back in my room with a cup pf water and a straw. Why is she so fast?

"Your water." She says, giving it to me.

"Small sips." She commands. My mouth is a better place to be now.

"Dr Green will be there soon." She purrs, giving Mark one last embarrassed glance before leaving. Good. I hope she never comes back. I drink the whole cup in one sip.

"You told dad?" I ask my mom, my eyes begging her to say no. He's going to kill me.

"I couldn't reach him, but they said they'll get him to call." She says. So, the surplice is delayed. Maybe I can convince her not to tell her about me and Mark.

"Mom, he's gonna kill me." I beg. She scolds me with her eyes.

"This is not about you and your boyfriend, you received a bullet, Abigail!" She hisses, outraged. The door swings open once more. I swear if it's that Stephanie again-

"Good evening, Abigail. I'm Dr Green. How do you feel?" A woman appears, blond bob, white blouse and stethoscope around her neck. She looks like a modern version on Marry Poppins.

"My wound hurts." I reply as she walks to me. My mom and Marl leave her some room.

"I'll get you some pain killers after examining you." She says and gives me a warm, warm smile. I smile back at her as she takes my empty cup from my hands. She walks closer to me and grabs the end of my bed. From the corner of my eye, I can see my mom walking out of the room.

"The bullet bounced while in your friend's head, which changed its trajectory. You could have been touched in the head. Unfortunately, the baby's gone." She explains to me. In the head? It could have killed me? The baby... I nod. Dr Green searches into my eyes for a moment, gauging my reaction, then starts examining me. She checks my reflexes, makes me touch her fingers...

"I'll get you some pain killers." She says once she's done. I nod, and she leaves as the same moment as my mother comes back in. The room gets silent, and both of Mark and my mom walk to me. They're going to talk. I don't want to talk.

"Where is Bea?" I ask. My sister must be worried.

"She went home an hour ago. We'll call her." My mom says. So, she was here? She's so going to insult me when she sees me. My little brat.

"You've made the headlines." My mom says.

"Did I?" I raise both of my eyebrows.

"There are tons of paparazzis in front of the hospital." She says. Of course, a gunshot in a high school, I bet I'm all over the world. The idea is chilling. Why did it have to happen to me?

"They know about the baby?"

"I asked the surgeon and the doctors not say it to the media, but tons of people could be aware in the hospital." She says. The public will know now or later. I can't begin to imagine the nightmare waiting for me outside.

Dr Green comes back a moment later with a pill and another cup of water. I want apple juice.

"Here. Take this." She says, giving them to me. I gulp the water down with the pill. I'm still thirsty.

"You're going to spend the night here, and we'll see if you can get out by tomorrow depending on how you feel." Dr Green says.

"Okay." I reply. Dr Green smiles and turn on her heels to leave, and Mark hails her.

"Is food okay for her?" He asks her. Food! Oh, yes!

"Nothing too heavy. Soup, salad, or sandwich. No soda." She says before leaving.

"Hungry, Abigail?" Mark prompts. Abigail? This man is infuriating.

"I want a cheeseburger." I mutter.

"You heard the doctor." Mark admonishes.

"With apple juice." I add. Mark purses his lips, but remains silent.

"Katherine?" He turns to my mom.

"You haven't eaten all day." He says. She gives him a kind-yes, kind smile.

"A sandwich will be perfect, thank you very much." She replies.

"You'll have to get me back in." He says to her. I frown.

"You have my number." She says. Does he?

"I'll be right back." He says, to me this time. I watch as he leaves.

"What does he mean by getting him in?" I ask my mom as she sits in Mark's seat.

"Only next of kin is allowed in. That's why he told me about you and him, so I would let him pass." She explains.

"Why did you let him in if you don't like him?"

"He was in tears. He obviously cares about you. And he saved you." She says. In tears? Oh, Mark. Now I feel bad. I can't be mad at him, it must have been hard for him too.

"Would you like him if he was my age?" I ask her. She purses her lip, not giving me any answer.

"He risks his job and his reputation for me." I take out my first argument.

"And you risk your heart." She retorts. Yes, that's true.

"That's the only thing that bothers me. That, and your pregnancy." She says. Oh, no.

I know she can't yell at me after what happened to me, and I find myself being glad to be in a hospital bed.

"You're so fragile-" She says. No, I'm not.

"He makes me stronger." I murmur. She closes her eyes, and when she opens it, they've softened

"Abigail, I'm glad to know you're happy, really. I just wished he was your age."

"It's bitter sweet for me, I never thought you would ever fall in love, but at the same time I'm afraid that if it doesn't work, you'll be as sad and wounded as you were before." She says. She's right. If Mark ever left me, I would... no. I don't want to think about it.

"And I know I can't keep you away from him. Even if I managed to, you would hate me, and you'd be depressed." She says. I would totally run away from the house. I hope I won't have to. I hope Dad won't ask me to leave him.

"All you can do is be there for me. Please." I murmur. She grabs my hand.

"Of course, Abigail. I'm your mother." She cajoles, slightly offended.

"Now, the sex." She says. I turn tomato red, instantly.

"That's what bothers me the most." She says. I tangle my fingers.

"I forgot to take my pill the first time we did it." I whisper. She knows I have sex. I feel ashamed.

"You wanted to keep it?" She asks me. I shake my head.

"What about him?" She asks.

"He's twenty-six, now or later, he didn't care. It was supposed to be my decision." I murmur.

"How were you going to do?"

"He said he would pay an abortion for me." I reply. She sighs deeply.

"You hid all that from me." She shakes her head in disbelief. I feel guilty.

"How did I not see it?" She asks... me? Or herself? I don't know. I keep silent.

"When were you going to tell me?" She asks me.

"A little bit after graduating?" I reply. She sighs again. Her reaction is less bad because I'm in a hospital bed. I wonder how Dad is going to react?

"Dad is going to freak out." I shiver.

"Do I have to tell him on the phone?" I plead.

"Yes, you have to." She's inflexible. Talking about phones...

"Where is my phone?" I ask her.

"I have it in my bag." She says, picking up her bag from the floor. She hands it to me. Woah! 97 missed calls, 321 messages. Coach Barnes, Aurianne, Emma, Brody, Johanna, childhood friends, people I don't even know. My twitter is blowing, my Facebook too. Later, later. I know I've made the headlines, but still.

"Does the police know about me and Mark?" I ask her. Does the public know? She shakes her head.

"The official version is that that boy was just a psychopath and that you were just unlucky." She says.

"It was an obvious suicide, no one will ask any questions." She adds. It's... good? I guess. I put my phone on my ear.

"Who are you calling?"

"Bea."

She picks up, and it feels like getting hit by a hurricane.

"ABIGAIL YOU FUCKING- WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?!"

Little brat!

I explain her the truth, not the official version. She is shocked. She says I’m on the news. After fifteen good minutes, we hang up.

My mom checks her phone after it vibrated.

"Your man is here." She says. My man! Let's see if he can make it up to me with the food. My mom leaves, and a minute later she comes back in, with Mark behind her.

"Here's the food." He says, waving the two plastic bags he's carrying. My mom sits on my right.

"I hope you like Swedish bread." Mark says, pulling out a baguette sandwich for my mom. She smiles.

"Thank you very much." She says, taking it. Mark unfolds the tray of my bed. From the other bag, Mark pulls out a white bowl with a plastic lid. My scalp prickles. I sit up in my bed. It hurts a little, but the painkillers are making it bearable.

"Soup for the strainer." He says, dropping the bowl on my tray. Chicken soup?! I eye my bowl, incredulous. 

"I said I wanted a cheeseburger." I say. Mark ignores me deliberately, placing a spoon, a napkin and a bottle of apple juice on my tray. He gives a bottle of water to my mom and pulls out one for himself.

"And a cheeseburger for me." He says, waving a square cardboard box in front of my eyes. The bastard! My mouth drops open, I'm outraged. How can he do this to me?

"Eat." He orders before I can say anything. I glance down at my tray, speechless. Soup. Soup?!

I'm not eating that.

"Will the police want to hear me too?" I ask my mom, reminding Mark I've been shot and he shouldn't be so cruel to me.

"I just called them. They're coming tomorrow morning." She says. Mark opens the plastic lid of my soup. I gaze at him, and he looks at me intently. I won't eat this! It smells good-

"How long have you been together, already?" My mom interrupts my thoughts.

"Five months." We reply in union. Our eyes meet, and I try to read into them. Should I smile? My mom interrupts my thoughts.

"Were there times you lied to me?" She asks. I think she knows the answer.

"Sometimes when I said I was at Bea's. I knew you would never call Liz to check." I reply. She sighs but remains silent. I look down at my tray. Soup! I don't want soup. Fuck this. I hate everything.

"Eat, Abigail." Mark orders. I glare at him. Getting bossy on top of that? He holds my gaze.

"What?" He asks, staring at me impassively.

"If you're mad at me, just take it out. I'm freaking mad at you too. But you must eat." He adds. In front of my mom!

"You're mad at me?" I'm exasperated. I've received a bullet, yet he can be mad at me.

"Quite, yeah. Eat." He mutters. Oh, joy!

"What did I do?" I ask him.

"Abigail, we can have this discussion later. Eat." He replies dryly.

"I'll eat if you tell me."

"Miss Kraige, you are as challenging as ever. Eat." I roll my eyes at him. He's mad at me, he's impossible when he's mad, he doesn't listen when he's mad. I obey. We all eat in a heavy silent.

"Done." I sigh, giving Mark my empty bowl with my spoon, my dirty napkin and the lid inside. Mark has one bite of his cheeseburger left.

"Good." He says. He drops his cheeseburger on my tray and takes my empty blow. He bents to put it in a plastic bag. The opportunity is here. I take his last bite and put it in my mouth. There. Mark puts my empty bowl in a plastic bag before throwing it into the bin next to my bed. He looks back at my tray, and a confused frown knots his eyebrows together as he looks for his hamburger. He glares at me.

"You really are a little monster, you know that?" He says, making me grin. I can hear my mom giggling softly. Mark shakes his head, taking a sip of my apple juice. This definitely lightened the mood in the room. My stomach full, I lay on my back, sighing deeply.

"Tired?" Mark asks softly. I shake my head, lying.

"No?" He repeats.

"You look tired to me." He says. No, I don't want to sleep.

"I want to watch TV." I murmur. Mark's lips form a thin line.

"You always do this." He sighs. Reproaches? Again?

"Do what?" I roll my eyes at him.

"Try to district yourself from what you're feeling. You know I hate that." He says. Why does he know me so well? It's not fair. I don't want to talk about what happened, he can't force me.

"Abigail-"

"Stop calling me that!" I snap. I know why he calls me by my full name, and it makes me mad. I glare at him.

"What's so funny?" I ask him, his small smile irritating me.

"Now you're expressing your feelings." He says, pleased, too pleased. He takes my hand in his.

"Go on. I'm listening." He says. I sigh. I don't want to talk about it, I want to forget. I turn to my mom, looking for help.

"Abigail, your friend killed himself right next to you. Don't make us believe you're just hungry and thirsty."

"I'm mad." I say, because that's all I feel. I'm angry.

"At me?" Mark asks me.

"Yes, and at him too." I reply.

"We're listening." He murmurs before kissing my knuckles. I look at my mom, and she smiles warmly at me, her hand caressing my cheek. Okay, I'm gonna cry.

"I'm mad at you because you told my mom about us when you knew I wanted to wait." I say to Mark.

"I am mad because I wanted a burger, and because I want to know why you're mad at me."

"I am mad at Henry because he never talked to me about his problems."

"What problems?" Mark asks me.

"He said he liked killing people." I whisper quietly. Mark's eyes widen in horror, and his mouth drops open. I hear my mom gasp.

"He was sick." I add. They must know this; Henry didn't want to be like this.

"He said he didn't want to kill me, but that he felt the urge since I said no to him." I explain. Mark looks mortified.

"That's what he said?" My mom breathes. I nod. Mark closes his eyes as if in pain and sighs, squeezing my hand. When he opens them, they've softened.

"Go on." He says to me.

"I am mad at him because he didn't tell me he was feeling so bad. I mean, I was his friend, I could have been there for him." Okay, I am angry, and guilty.

"I'm mad at him because he fucking spilled his brains on me and I was covered in his blood." Guilty and traumatized.

"And I'm mad at myself because if I wasn't being so selfish, maybe I could have done something." I whisper, feeling my throat tightening. I feel like it's too late. Like I arrived after the drama.

"But if I get past all those things, in the end," Tears spring to my eyes as I realize Henry's gone. Okay, he was a crazy psychopath, and I probably wouldn't have talked to him if I knew, but who's going to punch my chin when I say bad jokes? I remember what he always says to me before each full out. 'Stay tight, do what you do. Be pretty and smile, chin up, because you're not coming down.' And he was right, our stunt group never came down, not even once. Oh, Henry, why?

I have to stop, Abby. For you.

"And it's my fault." I burst into still, surrendering in front of the mess I made. Why do I always have to mess things up? Someone died this time. My friend died. He's gone.

Mark hugs me silently. And I cry, for a long moment, until my eyes are swollen and red.

"He was sick, and he said he killed people." Mark murmurs, dropping a soft kiss onto my forehead.

"He didn't deserve to die." I reply. He was an amazing person, regardless his mistakes. Yes, it wasn't the real him, but the him I know was like a brother.

"Neither did the persons he killed." He says. I frown. I look at my mom, and she's nodding.

"You think it's for the best?" I ask both of them. They look at each other

"I think it was a drastic and painful solution." My mom says. A solution? I can't forget he killed people. Killing is wrong. But, really? Henry? A killer?

"What if he lied? What if he never killed anyone?" I propose, wiping my nose on the back of my hand.

"The police will investigate. You'll have to tell them tomorrow." My mom replies

"I think you should get some sleep now." Mark says. Sleeping? Aguish grips at my heart, and I'm almost shaking. I don't know if I can.

"No." I shake my head. I'm scared. I know what's going to happen. Mark gazes at me, his eyes sad.

"I don't want to sleep." I can't help the pleading tone of my voice, the distress in my eyes. Mark's eyes get even sadder, almost apologetic. He knows what's going on. I'm going to have nightmares, and he can't sleep with me. Could he? Will my mom be okay with that?

"I can't be there when the police comes." Mark says quietly. I know, I know. I nod, and he sighs.

"I'll come back tomorrow." He says, getting up from his seat. Don't go. He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead.

"Please, try to sleep." He murmurs against my forehead. He gazes down at me and take my chin in his hand. Don't go. Don't go. My heart sinks.

"Don't cry." Mark pleads. I know he hates seeing me cry. He'll stay if I cry. I want him to stay. He can't stay, I can't cry. I swallow my tears back.

"Good night. I love you." He kisses my lips. His lips! They're gone too soon. I nod weakly. I can't talk, or I'll cry.

"Good night, Katherine." He says to my mom.

"Good night." She gives him a tight smile. The kiss made her mad. Mark gives me one last look, and then he's gone. I don't want to sleep, not without him. I feel empty.

After asking me more details about me and Mark, my mom passes out on her chair, exhausted. I only have me to entertain myself. Or maybe not. I haven't been alone with Mark, I don't know how he feels about all of this, about the baby. I grab my phone.

 

God dammit! I know he's not the kind to talk about feelings via text. What was I expecting ?

Fuck! Why does he always hatch his anger? I think he likes fighting with me. But why ? And why is he mad ?

I pull out my biggest weapon: love. I love him, he can't stay mad at me.

My lips curl despite myself. He's trying. But whatever, my phone is dead now. I sigh heavily, dropping my phone on the small table by my bed and close my eyes, but it's to very long until Henry starts haunting me.


	29. Chapter 29

There's blood everywhere. On me. I'm drenched. I try to wipe it off, but it's raining on me. It's Henry's blood and I'm going to drown. It's in my mouth, in my lungs. Why? It's not me! It's not me! I didn't kill him. Make it stop! There's blood everywhere.

"Abigail!" I'm shaken violently by a pair of arms. I open my eyes and see my mom, her eyes wide with horror. I'm breathless and my scalp prickles. Where am I? I'm disoriented. Then it all comes back to me, the gunshot, the hospital, my wound.

"Ah!" I yell in pain. Why am I sitting up? It hurts! I clutch at my wound.

"Calm down, honey." My mom says, laying me down.

"It hurts." I wince, writhing in pain.

"I'll call a nurse." My mom says in a hurry before leaving. Tears rush down my face, I hurt, I'm scared, and Henry's dead.

The nurse gives me more painkillers, and the pain fades away. I lay on my back, exhausted.

"Nightmare?" My mom asks, gently stroking my hair and I nod. I wish Mark was there, I don't have any nightmare when he's with me.

"My poor baby." She cajoles before kissing my forehead.

"What time is it?" I ask her.

"Almost two in the morning." She says before her phone starts buzzing. She checks her phone.

"It's your father." She says with dear relief. My eyes widen. No!

"John." She says as she picks up, and I sit up to watch up. I can hear my dad's voice, but I don't understand what he's saying. He's rambling on, and my mom tries to butt in, but he cuts her of every time.

"Yes. Yes, she's okay." She finally says. He starts talking again. I'm going to have to say it. Strangely, the fact that he's away doesn't make me less scared. He'll make me feel bad, even on the phone.

"A boy from her school shot himself, and the bullet touched her above the hip." My mom explains.

"Here." She hands me the phone. Lord, help me! I reluctantly take the phone.

"Daddy." I breathe. I know he's going to kill me, but I'm glad to hear his voice.

"Oh, my baby girl. Are you okay?" He asks me, his concern choking him.

"Yes, I'm fine now." I say. I can hear him sigh deeply.

"Abigail, honey, what happened? Why did that boy have a gun on him?" He asks softly.

"It was Henry. He was on the cheer team. I went to prom with him." I say so he can remember his face from the pictures I sent him.

"Why did he kill himself?" He asks me, shocked.

"Because he asked me out and I said no." I reply. My dad keeps silent, probably because of the shock.

"He said he killed people before, and that he wanted to kill me since I said no to him. But at the same time he loved me so he couldn't." I murmur. I can hear his incredulous snort, but he says nothing.

"He said he needed to stop, and he killed himself." I finish.

"Oh, Lord." Is the only thing he says. I can tell he's holding his forehead like he always does.

"But it's not all." I add. I glance at my mom.

"Can we be heard where you are?" I ask him.

"No, Abigail. Tell me." He replies.

"I have a boyfriend, and Henry found out." I confess.

"You have a boyfriend?" He asks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He adds, his voice lighter.

"Because he's my math teacher."

"What?"

"The one you met at the reunion." I explain. He stays silent for a long moment.

"Abigail..." He whispers. I can sense the disorientation in his voice. He still hasn't realized.

"You're seeing an older man?" He's still confused.

"Yes."

"Your teacher?"

"The police doesn't know that." I reply, and the line get quiet, very quiet, for a very long moment. I want for him to react, even though I hope he doesn't. I hear him sigh.

"I don't like this Abigail."  His voice is hoarse.

"I know."

"I don't approve this." He says a little hit louder. I know my dad, he's more than tense, he's boiling, but he's holding it back.

"I know." I whisper.

"You're disappointing me." He says. What? I wasn't expecting that. A few months ago, falling in love wasn't even an option for me, I was going to spend my life alone. I've changed, I'm not like before. It disappoints him?

"How older is he?" He asks.

"Six years." I reply. He stays silent for another moment.

"You think you're lucky because I'm away?"

"No, daddy." I murmur. He sighs again.

"Since when?"

"January." I reply. The line is quiet.

"You're going to ask me to leave him?" I ask quietly.

"You'd do it?" He replies, exasperated.

"I love him."

"Pass me your mother." He says. Geez.

"One second." I reply. I cover the mouthpiece with my hand and lock eyes with my mom.

"Don't tell him for the baby, please. Please don't tell him. He's going to kill me. It won't happen again I promise." I plead. My dad won't handle a pregnancy, he would kick me out of the house. She doesn't reply and takes the phone from my hands.

"Yes, John." She says.

"I had no idea!" She exclaims.

"The poor boy was in tears and begged me to let him see her while she was unconscious." She explains to him.

"No, he's gone."

"I would love that too, Robert. But how?"

"For you." She hands me the phone. She didn't tell him!

"Daddy?" I say.

"Abigail, I'm glad you're okay. Rest now, I'll call again as soon as I can." He says to me. He's as cold as ever.

"Okay. I love you, lieutenant." I murmur, hoping to lighten his mood.

"I love you too, Caporal." He sounds so cold! He hangs up. Geez!

"Thank you for not telling him about the baby." I say to my mom, giving her her phone back.

"If the media get the info, you'll have to tell him." She warns me, and I nod. I hope they never know.

"Sleep, now. Rest." She says, and I lay back down on my bed. I close my eyes and try to sleep, but my dad's words come back to me ghosts. I disappoint him by making progress? As mad as he is, he can't say that to me.

-

Soon in the morning, inspector Brown and inspector Mayer came to hear me. They didn't look suspicious as to why Henry did what he did. I told them about the alleged murders he committed and they said they'll investigate on that side; they were surprised, but cold and detached. I guess they're used to this. I'm alone in my room, switching channels. There's nothing interesting on Wednesdays. I've seen the news. They used my twitter profile picture and the selfie I did in the plane with Henry when we were going to Dallas. So many good memories with him, I remember how happy he was when we won the nationals. His smile, the light in his eyes, saw blinding that I never so how tortured he was. I find an old episode of the Big Bang Theory when the door of my room swings open.

"Hi." Mark appears, wearing a white V neck shirt, black jacket, jeans, and a beautiful smile. Joy!

"Hi." I smile with glee. I turn the TV off as he walks to me. He leans down and kisses me tenderly.

"How did you get in? My mom is gone." I say to him.

"Your nurse let me in." He says. Oh, that woman. She likes him.

"Stephanie?" I ask, gauging his reaction. He frowns.

"I think." He says as he sits down next to me. I mentally hug myself, she hasn't caught his eye. Try harder, bitch.

"She wants in your pants." I inform him. He smirks.

"My pants are yours, baby." He leans and kisses me again. Yes, mine.

"How was your night?" He asks me. Agitated, sleepless, terrifying, long, lonely, sad. I shrug. Not wanting to worry him.

"Did you eat breakfast?" He asks me, and I nod. I'm a good girl.

"You ate it all?" He asks, and I beam at him, nodding vigorously. Why do I feel so proud? Mark smiles down at me.

"Good girl." He whispers before kissing me. Yes... Good girl.... I like him calling me like that. I claim his lips, but he pulls away, leaving me wanting more.

"Where is your mom?" He asks me.

"Bea was here twenty minutes ago, she's dropping her home, and getting me clean clothes and my phone charger." I explain.

"Did the police come?" I nod.

"How did it go?"

"Fine. They didn't look suspicious."

"Did you reach your dad?"

I shiver at the thought.

"Yes. He hates you."

Mark grins.

"What a surprise." He says.

"It's not funny. He's really mad, and overprotective. And it's not with some fishing discussion that you'll get him." I scold him, my fiftyshadism unintentional.

"Fishing, eh?" Mark smirks, amused. I do my best to hide my amusement.

"Don't make me laugh." I say, unable to control my smile. Mark chuckles, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles.

"He said I disappointed him." I say. Mark frowns, keeping the back of my hand pressed against his lips.

"My mom at least likes that I've fallen in love. But he's disappointed by it. He'd rather I stayed single."

"I'm sure that's not how he meant it. He's just angry." He whispers. As angry as he is, can he really be that mean?

"Tell me, what were you doing in the roof with Henry?" Mark asks me, interrupting my thoughts.

"That's why you were mad?"

"I still am." Of course he still is.

"I wanted to tell him we couldn't be close anymore." I murmur. He caresses my knuckles.

"Couldn't you text it to him?" He says calmly, lightly, but he's reproachful.

"He never replies to my texts. Replied." I say.

"That kid was fucked up." Mark sighs and closes his eyes, pressing the back of my hand against his warm cheek.

"He was having a hard time because of that. He cried." Mark opens his eyes, his brow knotted, but he doesn't look at me. He stares for a moment, and then he closes his eyes again. He doesn't want to go on that subject. Henry was a bad person, yes. But that was not the Henry he showed me; that's the Henry I regret, the Henry I miss. Mark doesn't feel the same way, and I know he won't tell me anything.

"What were you doing in the school? You were supposed to be eating out." I say to him. He painfully opens his eyes.

"Mr. Smith decided to join us, but he had something to do before leaving. We were going out when we heard the gunshot." He says before kissing the back of my hand

"How's your wound?" He asks me.

"It's okay."

"Does it hurt?"

"I took pain killers."

"When are you going home?"

"Dr Green has to give me the green light. But the nurse told me she had something urgent to do, I think there was a big car accident or something." I explain to him, I saw the news about this too.

"How you feel about the baby being gone?" He asks suddenly. He wants to finish this discussion?

"How do you feel about it?" I reply. I don't want him to adapt his answer after hearing mine.

"I would have liked it to be your decision." He says. It's too vague.

"I want to know your opinion." I say.

"That's the only opinion I have."

"It feels like you don't care." I murmur. He frowns, alarmed. He places his hand on my head and caresses me gently.

"No, baby. I care. I just didn't want to get attached. We didn't have a choice, that's what makes me mad." He says.

"Tell me. How do you feel about it?" He adds.

"I didn't want to keep it." I say, gauging his reaction. He just nods.

"But it wasn't what I wanted." I add.

"I know." He murmurs softly. We're on the same page, for once. Why doesn't it happen more often? I feel like we're always fighting. Maybe it's my fault. I find every single of his tantrum childish and petulant, but if I didn't go to prom with Henry, none of this would have happened. I'm so stupid, yet he's gazing down at me with loving eyes.

"Why do I never listen to you?" I whisper, making him smile.

"Because you're my stubborn girl," He kisses my forehead.

"And I love you whatever you do." He kisses my temple, my eye.

"No matter how mad and worried you make me." He kisses my cheek and the corner of my mouth.

"You're okay and that's all that matters now." He says. This man is so sweet, he's adorable. I smile, reaching up to caress his face, and he takes my hand and kisses my palm. This man has so much love to give, but he's always so anxious about everything. And I'm such a daredevil with everything I do, he'll turn grey before his age.

"I'm sorry for worrying you." I whisper. He kisses my hand.

"Baby, I'm always worrying." He says, his tone comforting.

"I wish you didn't." I reply.

"But that's what I do." He says.

"You're the most precious thing I have. How can I possibly stop worrying?" He adds. I know worrying is a way of showing me his attention, but sometimes it makes me feel sad. He shouldn't worry so much, he's already wounded.

"I don't like it when you worry." I say.

"That's because you worry about me." He replies.

"Yes."

"We're not that different after all." He grins before kissing me. No, maybe not in fact. I worry about him just as he worries about me, because he loves me as I love him. He kisses me tenderly, his lips were gone for so long, it's like knowing the unfamiliar; something wakes up inside of me. I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. How long has it been since I've felt him that close? Two days? It feels like two years. Mark breaks away from me.

"When is your mom coming back?" He asks. Maybe he hasn't noticed.

"You have something to do?" I tease cockily, playing with his hair. Mark raises an eyebrow at me, his lips parted. I trace the line of his collar with my fingers.

"I like it when you wear V necks." I deliberately bite my lip. Mark smirks.

"Are you flirting with me, young girl?" He asks, entering my game.

"Yes, sir. What are you going to do about it?" I reply.

"Miss Kraige, I am taken. You are a naughty little thing." He says. And you, Mr. Tuan, are a very sexy man.

"I like naughty." I murmur.

"Don't try to seduce me, you're going to be off limits for a while." He says, breaking away from me and leans back in his chair. There, I feel it, this pang of disappointment. Off limits? But I want to feel him! I want to make love with him, now. When did I start loving sex so much?

"Are you pouting at me?" Mark smiles, bemused. Am I?

"I love sex." I whine, and he laughs.

"I know you do. Trust me." He says before kissing my forehead. His eyelids look heavy as he gazes down at me with love. Suddenly, he looks a little bit older.

"Did you sleep at all tonight?" I ask him. He shakes his head.

"I couldn't." He says. What? I purse my lips. He has to sleep! My blood starts to boil. Woah, Abigail, calm down. Why am I getting mad? This is what I mean by worrying about me. He didn't get any sleep, and now I'm worried.

"Come." I flip my blanket, inviting him

"What?"

"I want to take a nap, with you." I murmur. Mark smiles.

"I would love to, but I'm afraid I'll have to refuse. It's too risky." He says.

"Please." I beg.

"Your mom wouldn't like this."

"You know I sleep better when you're with me." I argue.

"If anyone sees us-"

"I had a terrible nightmare yesterday." I pull out my biggest weapon. Mark sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Abby, don't do this to me." He pleads, his voice quieter. He's giving in.

"Please, Mark. I want to sleep with you." I pout. Mark looks at me for a moment.

"Oh, fuck it." He finally says, getting up. Yes! He takes his jacket off and kicks his shoes off before climbing in my bed. He wraps me in his arms and I snuggle his chest. He's so, so warm. His perfume is intoxicating. My man...

-

When I wake Mark is wrapped around me like ivy. One leg between mine, he's nuzzling my breast and his arms are around me. When did he get there? I grin down at him, and when look up my mom is glaring at me from her chair by my bed, her arms crossed, her lips pursed. Shit.

"He didn't get any sleep last night." I murmur before she says anything.

"He's a grown boy, Abigail. It's your bed, not his, you're in pain." She says, staring at me impassively.

"I'm good, mom. I'm the one who begged him to sleep with me. Let him sleep, please." I say, making her sigh.

"Abigail, he was desperate yesterday, he begged me to let him in your room. He wouldn't take his eyes off you when you were unconscious, it touched me." She says. I can barely imagine the scene.

"He's obviously head over heels for you, and I guess you love him too. But it's not a reason to rub it in my face, Abigail. I still do not appreciate this." She says, waving her hand towards my bed.

"If Dr Green walks in-"

"Mom, at this point I don't care anymore." I cut her off. I don't care if someone sees us like this. I can't stand him not sleeping and worrying because of me.

"It's hard for him, too. He worries a lot, he always worries. Give him a break, please." I plead. She opens her mouth to protest, but Mark mumbles something in his sleep and we both go quiet. Mark talking in his sleep? He says something again, but it's barely understandable. More? No more? He tightens his arms around me, squeezing me, and I have to refrain myself from wincing because I know my mom would snap. I run my hand his hair, and he loosens his grip. He looks so young when he's sleeping, at least ten years younger, and I see that glimpse of the wounded teenager he is on his face. What is he dreaming about?

I look up at my mom and she shakes her head I'm a scolding way, but eventually let's him sleep.

-

After leaving to grab a chocolate bar at the end of the corridor, my mom comes back in my room, panicked.

"Dr Green says she'll be here in ten." She says. Ah! She can't see me and Mark like this. I'll have to wake up my sleeping beauty.

"Mark, wake up." I run my fingers in his hair. He doesn't budge. I gently shake him.

"Come on, sleepyhead." He tilts his head back to look up at me. His eyes flutter open once, see me, and then close themselves again; and he gives me a big, sleepy, boyish, happy fool smile. His beauty is dazzling.

"Hi." I grin at him.

"Hi." His voice is groggy and low, but his smile is beautiful. He opens his eyes again, and I kiss his nose.

"Hello." My mom says super sweetly. Mark quickly pulls away from me and sits up straight.

"Katherine." He says, flustered. My mom gives him a tight, satisfied smile. She did it on purpose!

"Dr Green is going to come soon." She says to him.

"Yes... I... I'm sorry." He mumbles, swinging his legs over the edge of my bed. He grabs one of his shoes to struggles to put it on. Flustered Mark is a very first, and can't help but giggle. He attempts to glare at me but his lips curl upward.

"Meanie." He mouths, making me laugh louder.

"How long did I sleep for?" He asks as my laugh fades away. I check the time.

"A poor hour and a half." I reply. He finally puts his shoes on.

"I have to go pick up my car, It's still on the school parking lot." He says.

"Sure." I reply. I don't want him to leave, but having him around my mom is awkward.

"Don't forget to eat lunch, and call me when you're home." He says. He's getting food obsessed.

"Yes, sir." I say sweetly. He smiles, but I don't really know why.

"What?" I ask, and he shakes his head. Tell me! I make an attempt to scowl at him but he grabs my chin, his fingers making my cheeks wiggle. I frown and he looks pleased with my deformed face.

"Can I?" He says to my mom, pointing at me with his free hand. I frown even harder.

"Of course." She says, am- AMUSED? She's smiling! Genuinely smiling. Mark kisses me quickly.

"Don't forget to call me." He says, letting me go.

"I will." I reply as he kisses my cheek.

"Good girl." He whispers into my ear. Ugh!

"Goodbye, Katherine." He says, getting up

"Goodbye." My mom replies, a little bit more seriously, and he leaves.

"You like him now?" I ask once we're alone. She smiled to him, and allowed him to kiss me in front of him.

"Time is the key, Abby. But I can see you love him, and he's doing you good." She says. Oh! Maybe she'll start to like him. Yay!


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter at 10 Kudos!

The media's response to that one poor gunshot in a high school is huge. Me and my mom had to get out by the back of the hospital because there were photographers everywhere. I'm not used to it. There were a couple of paparazzis in front of our house but I had a hoodie and they didn't get a shot of my face. Three fays have passed since I've got out. In that short lapse of time all my aunts and cousins came to see me. The cheer team and coach Barnes came too yesterday. It was great to be surrounded by people I love, but it's Mark that I want. I didn't see him in three days, but it feels like a decade. I want to ask my mom if he can come for dinner, but it would feel like pushing it too far. Yes, she smiled to him in the hospital but she told me not to rub it in her face. My dad called again, he's not less mad, and he didn't take his mean words back. Should I get mad at him next time he calls? As I wander in the kitchen to get some apple juice, the house phone rings. It's an unknown number.

"Hello?" I say, picking up. I hope it's not a journalist.

"Mrs. Kraige?" A feminine, quiet voice asks.

"It's her daughter. Can I know who this is?" I ask. No more apple juice? Mom!

"I am Elena Moore. Henry's mother." The voice says. My eyes widen and I gasp in surprise. Why is she calling? Is she mad at me? She should be, her son killed himself over me.

"Mrs. Moore..." I murmur, sitting at the kitchen counter, my legs threatening to give up on me. What do I say? What can I say?

"I am so sorry." I whisper, because it's all that I can say. I'm so sorry for what I've done to her only child. Tears rush down my face before I can even try to stop them. I hear muffled sobs coming from her.

"You're not mad?" She sniffles, her voice shaking.

"No, of course not. Henry was a really good friend." I reply. Why would I be mad? I was before, but then I was on my period.

"No one remembers the good times. They hate him, they hate us. He was everything I had." She sobs. The police has linked him with fifty-two corpses. They found pictures in his pillowcase. It was true, Henry was a sick boy. He killed people.

"He was seeing someone for his problems, but we didn't know... I'm sorry, Abigail, so sorry." She says. Part of me can't be mad at Henry. I should be. But I appreciated him. Very much.

"I am fine, Mrs. Moore." I reassure her.

"Will you come say goodbye to him?" She asks me. Shit, his funerals! It completely slipped out of my head. I have to be there, right?

"Yes, Mrs. Moore, of course. When are the funerals planned?" I ask her. Do I have a black dress?

"Tomorrow. 9 am." She says.

"I'll be there." I promise to her.

"Thank you, Abigail." She says.

"You're welcome." I reply. Stop thanking me... I killed Henry.

"Can I talk to your mom?" She asks, sniffling. I wipe my nose with the back of my hand.

"Sure. One second." I say to her.

After giving the phone to my mom, I lock myself in my room and call Mark.

"Abby!" Mark sings, his voice light. He sounds happy to hear me.

"Hi." I smile on my own.

"Hi. How was your day?" He replies.

"Long. I miss you." I say.

"I miss you too, baby. Did you eat all your meals today?" He asks. This really became a habit.

"Yes, mister Tuan." I reply sweetly, eager for my reward.

"Good girl." He cajoles. Yes...

"How's your wound?" He adds way too quickly. I didn't even enjoy his 'Good girl'!

"It's healing. It hurts less but I'm still on pain killers. Henry's mom called."

"Really?" He says.

"She said she was sorry, and she hopped I wasn't mad at her, or at Henry. And she asked me to come to his funerals tomorrow."

"You're going?" The surprise in his voice makes me frown. Is it weird?

"Of course. You're not?" I ask.

"Why would you go to his funerals? That boy could have killed you, and he killed the baby." He says, shocked. I know all of that but he was a friend, isn't it logical?

"He was my friend, Mark." I inform him for what feels like the hundredth time.

"He sent you to the hospital." He retorts.

"What he did to me wasn't intentional." I say, but he knows that, right?

"He still spilled his brains on you. And I know you're having nightmares about it." He says.

"Yes, but despite all of that-"

"Despite all of that? How can you disregard all the things he did to you? And to me?" He says.

"Mark, he was sick. He didn't chose to be this way. How can you be so heartless?" I murmur, shocked.

"I'm not heartless, I just-"

"Then go to his funerals tomorrow." I say sternly.

"No." He says. I rub my forehead. He's so frustrating. Has he no good memory with Henry?

"Mark, I know you appreciated him before all of that." I say.

"Yes, before he tried to kiss you." He says. I smack my tongue, exasperated.

"Abby, he hurt you. He touched the most precious thing I have, how can you expect me to..." His voice shakes, and he's unable to finish his sentence, and I understand. He's not mad because of pure angriness, he's hurt.

"He hurt you." I whisper.

"Yes." He breathes.

"I thought I'd lost you." He says, and I can still feel his anguish even though he's using the past tense.

"I'm here." I murmur.

"He messed up, that's all. What he did had worse consequences for him than for me." I say.

"He was fucked up. He was crazy. The police linked him with fifty-two corpses, Abby. He was a psychopath." He says. His words are so harsh, I can almost feel his anger. I've never heard him talk about someone like that. Expect about Liam. Henry's not Liam, he's nothing like him.

"Don't talk about him like that." I plead. It's too hard to hear, especially from him.

"That's the truth, Abby. You need to accept that." He says.

"What if it was you?"

"Would you want me to say such things about you?" I ask. He stays silent form a moment.

"I'd never... I don't want to hurt you. Ever." He breathes.

"What if you ever did? Like Henry did."

"Baby, I'm sorry but you're asking me too much. I won't go." He says, closing the topic. He's so categoric. It was just a god damn mistake. Is he always like this with people? Will he be like this with me who mess up everything I do? Could he talk about me with such disgust one day? The thought is horrifying.

"Would you turn away from me like this? That easily?" I murmur quietly. What if I make a huge mistake one day, will he hate me like he hates Henry?

"No, Abby, never. What makes you think that?" He replies, his voice soft.

"You scare me sometimes." I murmur.

"I'm sorry." He says.

"Think about it, please." I beg.

"I will." He says. I hope he'll think hard.

"Thank you." I whisper. We both stay silent on the line. I can sense the awkwardness that got between us. I'm not mad at him, and he isn't at me, but I'm a little bit scared. What if we ended like this?

"I'm tired, I think I'll go to bed." I lie.

"Okay, I'll call you tomorrow." He says.

"Okay." I reply.

"Sleep tight."

"I love you "

"I love you too."

I hang up and flop down onto my bed.

-

The church is unexpectedly crowded and loud as me, Bea and my mom sit down in the back. Oh, Henry was so loved. He still is, even now. Some people have to stay standing in the back. I'll have to speak in front of all of them. Geez...why did I agree to do that? My eyes anxiously search around the church, no sign of Mark. Where is he? I know he's there, I have faith in him. I feel bad for making such a big deal out of it. He's mad, and he has all the rights to be. Something deep inside me doesn't want to let go, but I don't know what. The sad mass starts and goes on as I do my best to hold back my tears. His mom takes the floor, and I break down in front of her grief. Later, it's my turn to speak in front of everyone. As I stand on the stage, I have a full view of the crowd. I scan each teary face scrupulously, and the truth hits me like a bullet in the face. Mark is not there.

-

It hurts, it just hurts, everywhere. Henry's pent up, locked away. There's no way he'll come back. I stand there, frozen, in front of the big hole. People are leaving, Henry's mom has fainted.

"Abigail, honey," My mom cajoles, putting her hands on my shoulder; she squeezes them. I look up at her. How long did I stand here for? It's unreasonable. We have to leave, I have to call Mark.

"Just one minute." I give her a tight smile. She mirrors my smile and kisses my cheek before turning on her heels. I watch her walk away. What will I say to Mark? Am I mad? I don't know, I feel numb; empty. Oh, no. I'm going to cry. I turn away from my mom, looking vaguely at the top of the small hill that overlooks the cemetery. A man is standing there, looking down at me. He's in a black suit with a tie, and he's wearing sunglasses. As we lock eyes, he removes his sunglasses and puts them in his pocket. Thank God! Mark indicates me to follow him, and he disappears behind the hill. Like mesmerized by the mirage, I climb up the small hill. Mark is waiting for me. He's there!

"You came." I breathe, incredulous. I automatically curl my arms around his neck and hug him. I feel his chest against my body, his warmth radiating. I breathe his scent and absorb his warmth, tears prickle at my eyes.

"Yes." He sighs, wrapping his arms around me. I was so, so wrong about him. He's still the warm and loving person I know, he was just mad and hurt.

"Thank you." I whisper, pulling away from him. He takes my ace in his hands and kisses me. I swallow my tears back and reply to his kiss. I sigh against his lips.

"I thought you'd never show up." I whisper. Mark takes my hands and kisses each of my knuckles.

"He was a good kid. Part of him was." He says.

"Yes." I breathe. Mark's thumb skims over my knuckles.

"Your speech was beautiful." He says, his eyes tender. My speech?

"You were at the church?" I ask, incredulous. He nods.

"Bawled my eyes out." He pouts, making me giggle. He was there the whole time. I thought he was a stubborn teenager, but he just proved me he'll never cease to amaze me, surprise me. I hug him again.

"I hate fighting with you." He sighs, dropping a soft kiss in the crook of my neck.

"Me too. But you can be so stubborn sometimes." I reply as I pull away. He smiles to me.

"Ditto." He says. Me? Stubborn? I don't know what you're talking about, sir.

"Abigail!" A familiar voice calls from afar. Mark and I take few steps forward and I perceive my mom looking up at me from below.

"Come." I day, clasping Mark's hand. I'll ask her now, I have a strategy to be left alone with him.

"Don't hold hands in public, there are people! And paparazzis." My mom walks to us and pulls our hands apart. Oops.

"Sorry." Mark and I say in union. My mom crosses her arms above her chest and gives both of us a scolding look. I stifle my amusement, but seeing Mark's lips twitch as he tries not to laugh makes me crack up.

"You really have to be more careful." My mom says, ignoring me. My coughs.

"I'm sorry, Katherine. It won't happen again." His voice is shaky. Why are we laughing? My mom shakes her head in disbelief, but I can see her lips curl upward.

"Let's go say goodbye, we're going home. You have to change your bandage." She says before turning around. Mark and I finally lock eyes... he bursts out of laughter firsts, and I follow discreetly.

"Mom, can I go to Mark's place tomorrow? I've missed a lot of classes, and we have a huge test coming up." I say from behind her, and she stops in her tracks. She turns around to look at me, her eyes narrowed.

"He could come to the house." She says. No. I want to be ALONE with him.

"But aunty Charlene and her three monsters are coming tomorrow." I argue. Tomorrow it's Sunday, she can't push it back, she's trapped, and she knows that. She glances at Mark. He shrugs, making a clueless pout. Could he look even younger? She rolls her eyes.

"Okay." She sighs. Yes! I refrain myself from celebrating.

"Thank you." I murmur sweetly. She turns back around, heading towards the entry of the cemetery.

"Well done, baby." Mark whispers into my ear, giving my butt a friendly pat. So, it's only me and Mark tomorrow. After four days without being alone with him, I know what's going to happen. What I WANT to happen.


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter at 10 Kudos! :)

It's ten in the morning. I just couldn't wait to see Mark, finally be left alone with him. You would think I only love him for the sex, but what the sex he gives me does to me goes beyond physical pleasure. I need my recharge. I knock on the door of his apartment. He's awake, he said he's waiting for me. After a beat he opens the door.

"Hi." Mark grins like a fool. He's wearing sweats, his feet are bare like his toned chest and he has lather on his face. 

Oh, shaving Mark!

"Am I bothering?" I giggle, making my way in.

"Oh, Abby, never." He says eagerly as I drop my bag to the floor while he closes the door. I wrap my arms around his neck and he enfolds me in his strong arms. His arms...my heaven.

"Why do you have to shave now?" I pout. I want to kiss him hello. I kiss his nose instead.

"I haven't been with my girl in five days, I want to look good for her. You didn't say you'd show up that soon." He grins, and I pout. I kiss his nose again.

"Hurry up, I can't kiss you with this." I whine sulkily.

"I have an idea. Come." He says, and I can sense a point of excitement in his voice. I follow him across the living room and watch as he grabs a chair from the dining table. He leads me to the bathroom in his bedroom and drops the chair in the middle of the room. He takes his razor and a towel and turns to me.

"Here." He says, handing me his razor. I eye it, surprised. What?

"You want me to do it for you?" I ask, taking the objects from his hands. The towel is damp and warm.

"Yes." He takes my other hand and pulls me closer while he sits on the chair. Woah.

"You're not scared I'll scalp you?" I crook an eyebrow at him.

"You want to scalp me?"

"If you don't behave." I tease, and he laughs. It's a lovely sound.

"Oh, Abby, I'm almost squirming." He says, pulling be down onto his lap. I'm all smile as I start my work.

"You tricked your mom very well." He says as I shave his left cheek. I smile, all proud of myself.

"She knows she can't hold me against my will anyway." I reply. 

He starts enjoying a private joke.

"What?" I ask him. He grins, making it hard for me to slide the razor. I lock eyes with him.

"She doesn't like me very much." He says. I laugh at him. No, she doesn't.

"It's a first for you, right?" I tease, and he smiles. He must be used to see all the ladies swoon. I can understand, they all do. I did.

"Quite, yeah." He says. I pull my upper lip down, and he mirrors me, letting me shave his philtrum. Gently...

"She knows you love me. She said you were... distressed. While I was unconscious." I explain. I feel his grip around me tighten.

"I was. I died a million times that day." He says.

"She knows we're serious, but she's on her guard. She's scared I'll get hurt. I understand her."

"You could break my heart so easily." My voice disappears in a whispers.

"Ditto." He says.

"That's very hard to believe."

"I know. I wish it would sink into your thick skull that I love you more tan you can every imagine." He mutters.

"Thick skull?" I bristle.

"I have a blade in my hand." I warn. Mark giggles and makes himself more comfortable in his seat.

"Your old man is deaf, Abby." He says, his voice filled with amusement. My old mad. I laugh at his words. He can be so funny. I shake my head in dear adoration, wiping his silly mouth with the towel.

"My old man." I say, my voice filled with affection. Now that the skin around his mouth is clear, I lean and kiss him. Mark's lips respond, and he kisses me back.

"Your man." He murmurs against my lips. Yes...

"My man." I repeat. My man, my world, my universe.

"Yours." He whispers, his teeth tugging at my lower lip. His words travel deep, deep down in me.

"Mine." I breathe. My body roars against his. He kisses my jawline, nips at my earlobe, trails his tongue down my neck, and I throw my head back, relishing the sensation. Suddenly he pulls away.

"You have a work to finish." He says before kissing my scars through my chocker. I look down at him, his eyes are burning. I exhale deeply, composing myself. He wants me, but he's toying with me, like always. I resume my task without a word.

"That's more like it." I say, wiping his now clean chin. Mark turns his head, and checks himself in the mirror.

"You're good at this." He says appreciatively. Yes, yes, enough with the chit chat. I drop the razor and the towel next to the sink and grab his head to make him look at me.

"I've missed you." I breathe, leaning closer to his lips. He smiles to me, wrapping his arms around me.

"I've missed you too." He says. And with that I kiss him, my body waking up in a loud roar. I kiss him everywhere. His mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. I want to feel each ounce of his skin against my lips. I feel him tense against me.

"Baby, no, stop." He breathes, grabbing my hips. What? No. No, No, No! I double my efforts, nibbling at his lower lip. A wave of heat washes over me and my blood starts to boil.

"I want you." I growl. Mark groans, taking my head in his hand. He forces us apart.

"Don't do this to me. I'm desperate to make love to you, but you're in pain." He murmurs, brushing his nose against mine. His thumbs stroke my cheeks, and one skims over my bottom lip. For a moment I'm lost in his touch, closing my eyes and nuzzling his hand. Then his finger is gone, and my eyes flutter open. I see in his apologetic eyes that he hasn't changed his mind, but my hunger is multiplied by ten.

"Touch me." I beg, my voice hoarse. I take his hand and place it on my chest, above my heart, above my swollen heart that beats only for him, that's carving for his love just like the rest of my body.

"I'll tell you if it hurts. Please, love me, now." I plead, sincerely. After a beat, Mark grabs my face and crashes his lips on mine.

I welcome his skilled tongue in my mouth and he explores, possessing me, his hands fisted in my hair, holding me close.

"I want you naked. I want to feel all of you." He pants against my mouth. And I want to feel all of him, his skin against mine, his warmth, I want it all at once. I throw my shirt over my head and he unclasps my bra before letting it fall on the floor. I get up from his lap and take the rest of my clothes off, my jeans, my panties and my socks joining the rest of my clothes on the floor. As I stand, naked before him, Mark watches me intently, and I realize he's eyeing the bandage above my hip that hides my wound. He balls his fists on his thighs. No, no, no!

I sit back onto his lap and tilt his chin up with my hand so he looks up at me. Dipping my head, I kiss him passionately, trying to chase his worry away with each stroke of my tongue. He replies to my kiss, his hands caressing my back, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling gently. He groans and takes my hands before pinning them behind my back against my backside. He holds me close and his lips travel down my neck, his tongue running over my scars, loving them, worshipping them. His teeth sink into my skin as he bites me softly.

"Ah!" I moan, the feeling traveling strait to my core. I throw my head back as he kisses the dip base of my neck, my collar bones. He pulls on my hand, tearing my chest off his, and his lips are on my breasts, trailing butterfly kisses. He traces the outline of my nipple with his tongue, never touching it, teasing me, making me writhe with anticipation. He kisses my nipple, then his tongue flicks against it, and it elongates under his magic. As he sucks on my nipples, it all radiates in my center, making me whimper. Stimulated, my whole body tingling, I grind myself onto his growing erection. I can feel him through his sweatpants, and he's rubbing against me, in all the right places. I can feel it, my arousal, his, the tension is intoxicating.

"I can feel you, baby." Mark murmurs against my skin. He trails his tongue between my breasts, up my chest, my neck, and he stops under my chin.

"Please." I beg, circling my hips and relishing the delicious friction. Mark lets my hands go and I immediately reach for his face and kiss him. He groans into my mouth, his hands fondling my behind, giving my butt cheeks a strong squeeze. He guides my movements as I push against his groin.

"So wet. I can feel it." He growls appreciatively against my lips, savouring the feeling of my arousal against his.

"Mark, please." I beg. I want more. More, more, I want it all, I want everything, I want him. I need him. Marks hands travel up my back, then up my stomach, he caresses my breasts, my chest.

"Ah..." I sigh in dear pleasure of feeling his hands all over me again. Yes, touch me... He grabs the back of my head and kisses me vigorously.

"Take me." I plead in his mouth.

"Free me, baby." He whispers against my lips. Yes! I refrain myself from screaming in delight and reach in between our bodies. I palm his bulge through his sweats, he's hard and throbbing. I caress him gently, up and down, and Mark traps my lips with his, a low throaty moan escaping his mouth. I can't wait anymore. I slide my hand in his boxers and free him. Mark places his hands on my backside and lifts me up, lining me up with his erection, and in a swift movement, I sink onto him.

"Fuck..." I moan, releasing his mouth. He closes his eyes and groans as I savour the sensation of fullness. Oh, Mark. I try to start to move, but Mark pins me down.

"No, baby. Feel me." He says, stilling inside of me. There he is, my man. This is the closest we can be. After so many emotions shared during the past days, were physically and emotionally the same page. It all comes down to this, this is the apex of our love.

"There." He flexes his hips once, and the motion radiates everywhere. My jaw drops open in a silent moan as the pleasure radiates like a shockwaves. It reaches my toes, and I shift on him.

"Please." I mewl, bucking my hips. Mark groans as I do.

"Oh, Abby." He groans, his hands traveling up to my breasts. The air hisses between my teeth. I start to circle my hips onto his.

"Slow, baby. Feel me. All of me." Mark's hands come down to slow me down. He lifts me up agonizingly slowly, make me feel every single inch of him rubbing against my walls. I let out a begging mewl. He lets me down at the same speed, slowly filling me back up. The feeling is exquisite. He kisses me, slowly, as I slowly bounce up and down on him. My body savours the sweet torture, but soon starts to carve for more. I whimper against Mark's lips.

"Yesss." Mark breathes, his hands on my backside urging me. I pick up pace, relishing my tortuous rhythm. Oh, my man, my love, he makes me feel so good. His hands run up my stomach, and he cups my breasts. He fondles them, squeezes them, loves them, worships them, and the feeling mixes with the fire inside of me. His thumbs skim over my nipples, and he pinches them.

"Ah!" I cry out. I can feel him. He's everywhere, on my skin, under my skin, in my heart, in my soul. Feeling his lips on me, his scattered breathe, his sweat, his love, I am complete now, and this familiar crescendo starts inside of me. I connect our foreheads, my hair falling around us like an auburn cocoon as I grab his biceps for support.

"Yes, baby." My moans, his lips brushing against mine. I double my efforts, racing to my release. I grind on him harder, increasing the friction inside of me, creating sparkles between us.

"Oh, yes!" I moan in pleasure. My nails dig in his skin as all my muscles tense and threaten to spasm.

"Oh, Abby, my goddess; give it to me, baby. Come for me." Mark murmurs against my parted lips, hand his words are my undoing. Mark sets my soul on fire and I detonate in a firework. My speed erratic, my breath scattered, my inner crescendo reaches the top, and I throw my head back in ecstasy, his name rolling off my tongue over and over as I hold him close to me. At this very moment I know he'll never turn away from me, and I know we're meant to be. My orgasm washes over me like a wave, consuming me.

"Oh, baby!" My cries out, wrapping his arms around me as he thrusts sharply inside of me over and over again, finding his release. My crescendo fades away and is replaced my the sound of our scattered breaths and the silence of the room as I rest my head on his shoulder, exhausted.

"That was..." I whisper. Words fail me. That was... more. That was everything.

"Yeah." Mark agrees. That was really intense, maybe because I've missed him like crazy. That was beyond love and intimacy. It was like our souls were connected. It made me feel so loved the whole way through. I could loose that if I mess up; he showed me that with Henry. Suddenly, I'm submerged by emotion. I don't want to lose him. After all the emotions of the past days, I feel as vulnerable as ever; and this horrifying thought is just too much. Mark is alerted when I start to sniffle.

"Abby, baby, why are you crying?" He asks, making me look at him in the eyes, his are filled with concern.

"I'm sorry." I sob, dashing my tears away. They come back ten times stronger.

"What?" Mark asks.

"I know you worry about me, but I keep... I don't want you to hate me." I sob, the idea of him hating me making me even more anxious.

"Baby, I'd never hate you. What makes you think that?" Mark frowns, his voice soft. I really have to stop crying like a kid. I hiccup and sniffle, unable to get a grip of myself. I'm completely unable to articulate an understandable answer.

"Is it because of what I said about Henry?" He asks me. I nod, covering my eyes with my arm. I'm so ridiculous like this, but I can't stop crying.

"But I came to his funerals. I understood what you meant, and I forgave him." He says. He forgave him? I lower my arm to look at him.

"And I'll always forgive you, okay?" He says. Oh, Mark! I nod. He kisses my forehead, my lips, my cheek, my eye, and my runny nose.

"You worry too much." He says.

"Ditto." I reply, and he smiles. Stretching across me, he grabs the tissue box next to the sink and take one out. He places it on my nose, and suddenly I feel like a kid. I blow my nose, and he wipes my snot. He looks happy with himself. He throws the tissue in the bin.

"Can I pull my pants up or you want to attack me again?" He asks playfully. I laugh at his words. I let him pull his pants up before sitting back on his lap and he wraps his arms around me. We stay like this fire a long moment, and I'm tired, my eyelids getting heavier with each passing minute.

"Better?" Mark kisses my hair and runs his fingertips up and down my spine. I was just about to fall asleep.

"Hmmm."

"Let's be clear, that was only because you've just got off your period. You need to figure out some kind of contraception. One you can stick to, by preference." He sighs. Is he really talking about periods and contraception right now? That man... I wouldn't have him any other way.

"Hmmm."

"Do I bore you, Miss Kraige?" He asks me.

"Hmmm." He smells so good.

"You want to take a nap?"

"Hmmm."

"That's the best you can do?" I can sense his smirk.

"Hmmm." I reply. He chuckles, his chest vibrating against mine.

"Come. Let's get you in bed." He says. I reluctantly get up. Mark takes my hand and I stagger in his bedroom, my eyes half open. He leave me standing in the middle of the room while he ruffles in his drawers. My eyes close themselves.

"Abby." Mark says softly. I feel him wrap an arm around me and he pulls me to him, dropping a kiss on my forehead. I open my eyes as he pulls away. He has a T shirt in his hand.

"Hands up." I obey and he slides his shirt down my body. My vision is temporally blocked as my head gets in the hole of the shirt, hut I'm so tired that I use this brief moment of darkness to close my eyes.

"Ready for bed." He says before kissing me. I open my eyes but they close themselves on their own. Dozing off, I fall forward. Mark catches me in time, wrapping an arm around me and pressing my head against his chest. I'm vaguely aware he's chuckling, making fun of me. I'm aware he picks me up in his arms, and I drift away instantly in his embrace.


	32. Chapter 32

It's ten in the morning. I just couldn't wait to see Mark, finally be left alone with him. You would think I only love him for the sex, but what the sex he gives me does to me goes beyond physical pleasure. I need my recharge. I knock on the door of his apartment. He's awake, he said he's waiting for me. After a beat he opens the door.

"Hi." Mark grins like a fool. He's wearing sweats, his feet are bare like his toned chest and he has lather on his face.

Oh, shaving Mark!

"Am I bothering?" I giggle, making my way in.

"Oh, Abby, never." He says eagerly as I drop my bag to the floor while he closes the door. I wrap my arms around his neck and he enfolds me in his strong arms. His arms...my heaven.

"Why do you have to shave now?" I pout. I want to kiss him hello. I kiss his nose instead.

"I haven't been with my girl in five days, I want to look good for her. You didn't say you'd show up that soon." He grins, and I pout. I kiss his nose again.

"Hurry up, I can't kiss you with this." I whine sulkily.

"I have an idea. Come." He says, and I can sense a point of excitement in his voice. I follow him across the living room and watch as he grabs a chair from the dining table. He leads me to the bathroom in his bedroom and drops the chair in the middle of the room. He takes his razor and a towel and turns to me.

"Here." He says, handing me his razor. I eye it, surprised. What?

"You want me to do it for you?" I ask, taking the objects from his hands. The towel is damp and warm.

"Yes." He takes my other hand and pulls me closer while he sits on the chair. Woah.

"You're not scared I'll scalp you?" I crook an eyebrow at him.

"You want to scalp me?"

"If you don't behave." I tease, and he laughs. It's a lovely sound.

"Oh, Abby, I'm almost squirming." He says, pulling be down onto his lap. I'm all smile as I start my work.

"You tricked your mom very well." He says as I shave his left cheek. I smile, all proud of myself.

"She knows she can't hold me against my will anyway." I reply.

He starts enjoying a private joke.

"What?" I ask him. He grins, making it hard for me to slide the razor. I lock eyes with him.

"She doesn't like me very much." He says. I laugh at him. No, she doesn't.

"It's a first for you, right?" I tease, and he smiles. He must be used to see all the ladies swoon. I can understand, they all do. I did.

"Quite, yeah." He says. I pull my upper lip down, and he mirrors me, letting me shave his philtrum. Gently...

"She knows you love me. She said you were... distressed. While I was unconscious." I explain. I feel his grip around me tighten.

"I was. I died a million times that day." He says.

"She knows we're serious, but she's on her guard. She's scared I'll get hurt. I understand her."

"You could break my heart so easily." My voice disappears in a whispers.

"Ditto." He says.

"That's very hard to believe."

"I know. I wish it would sink into your thick skull that I love you more tan you can every imagine." He mutters.

"Thick skull?" I bristle.

"I have a blade in my hand." I warn. Mark giggles and makes himself more comfortable in his seat.

"Your old man is deaf, Abby." He says, his voice filled with amusement. My old mad. I laugh at his words. He can be so funny. I shake my head in dear adoration, wiping his silly mouth with the towel.

"My old man." I say, my voice filled with affection. Now that the skin around his mouth is clear, I lean and kiss him. Mark's lips respond, and he kisses me back.

"Your man." He murmurs against my lips. Yes...

"My man." I repeat. My man, my world, my universe.

"Yours." He whispers, his teeth tugging at my lower lip. His words travel deep, deep down in me.

"Mine." I breathe. My body roars against his. He kisses my jawline, nips at my earlobe, trails his tongue down my neck, and I throw my head back, relishing the sensation. Suddenly he pulls away.

"You have a work to finish." He says before kissing my scars through my chocker. I look down at him, his eyes are burning. I exhale deeply, composing myself. He wants me, but he's toying with me, like always. I resume my task without a word.

"That's more like it." I say, wiping his now clean chin. Mark turns his head, and checks himself in the mirror.

"You're good at this." He says appreciatively. Yes, yes, enough with the chit chat. I drop the razor and the towel next to the sink and grab his head to make him look at me.

"I've missed you." I breathe, leaning closer to his lips. He smiles to me, wrapping his arms around me.

"I've missed you too." He says. And with that I kiss him, my body waking up in a loud roar. I kiss him everywhere. His mouth, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. I want to feel each ounce of his skin against my lips. I feel him tense against me.

"Baby, no, stop." He breathes, grabbing my hips. What? No. No, No, No! I double my efforts, nibbling at his lower lip. A wave of heat washes over me and my blood starts to boil.

"I want you." I growl. Mark groans, taking my head in his hand. He forces us apart.

"Don't do this to me. I'm desperate to make love to you, but you're in pain." He murmurs, brushing his nose against mine. His thumbs stroke my cheeks, and one skims over my bottom lip. For a moment I'm lost in his touch, closing my eyes and nuzzling his hand. Then his finger is gone, and my eyes flutter open. I see in his apologetic eyes that he hasn't changed his mind, but my hunger is multiplied by ten.

"Touch me." I beg, my voice hoarse. I take his hand and place it on my chest, above my heart, above my swollen heart that beats only for him, that's carving for his love just like the rest of my body.

"I'll tell you if it hurts. Please, love me, now." I plead, sincerely. After a beat, Mark grabs my face and crashes his lips on mine.

I welcome his skilled tongue in my mouth and he explores, possessing me, his hands fisted in my hair, holding me close.

"I want you naked. I want to feel all of you." He pants against my mouth. And I want to feel all of him, his skin against mine, his warmth, I want it all at once. I throw my shirt over my head and he unclasps my bra before letting it fall on the floor. I get up from his lap and take the rest of my clothes off, my jeans, my panties and my socks joining the rest of my clothes on the floor. As I stand, naked before him, Mark watches me intently, and I realize he's eyeing the bandage above my hip that hides my wound. He balls his fists on his thighs. No, no, no!

I sit back onto his lap and tilt his chin up with my hand so he looks up at me. Dipping my head, I kiss him passionately, trying to chase his worry away with each stroke of my tongue. He replies to my kiss, his hands caressing my back, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling gently. He groans and takes my hands before pinning them behind my back against my backside. He holds me close and his lips travel down my neck, his tongue running over my scars, loving them, worshipping them. His teeth sink into my skin as he bites me softly.

"Ah!" I moan, the feeling traveling strait to my core. I throw my head back as he kisses the dip base of my neck, my collar bones. He pulls on my hand, tearing my chest off his, and his lips are on my breasts, trailing butterfly kisses. He traces the outline of my nipple with his tongue, never touching it, teasing me, making me writhe with anticipation. He kisses my nipple, then his tongue flicks against it, and it elongates under his magic. As he sucks on my nipples, it all radiates in my center, making me whimper. Stimulated, my whole body tingling, I grind myself onto his growing erection. I can feel him through his sweatpants, and he's rubbing against me, in all the right places. I can feel it, my arousal, his, the tension is intoxicating.

"I can feel you, baby." Mark murmurs against my skin. He trails his tongue between my breasts, up my chest, my neck, and he stops under my chin.

"Please." I beg, circling my hips and relishing the delicious friction. Mark lets my hands go and I immediately reach for his face and kiss him. He groans into my mouth, his hands fondling my behind, giving my butt cheeks a strong squeeze. He guides my movements as I push against his groin.

"So wet. I can feel it." He growls appreciatively against my lips, savouring the feeling of my arousal against his.

"Mark, please." I beg. I want more. More, more, I want it all, I want everything, I want him. I need him. Marks hands travel up my back, then up my stomach, he caresses my breasts, my chest.

"Ah..." I sigh in dear pleasure of feeling his hands all over me again. Yes, touch me... He grabs the back of my head and kisses me vigorously.

"Take me." I plead in his mouth.

"Free me, baby." He whispers against my lips. Yes! I refrain myself from screaming in delight and reach in between our bodies. I palm his bulge through his sweats, he's hard and throbbing. I caress him gently, up and down, and Mark traps my lips with his, a low throaty moan escaping his mouth. I can't wait anymore. I slide my hand in his boxers and free him. Mark places his hands on my backside and lifts me up, lining me up with his erection, and in a swift movement, I sink onto him.

"Fuck..." I moan, releasing his mouth. He closes his eyes and groans as I savour the sensation of fullness. Oh, Mark. I try to start to move, but Mark pins me down.

"No, baby. Feel me." He says, stilling inside of me. There he is, my man. This is the closest we can be. After so many emotions shared during the past days, were physically and emotionally the same page. It all comes down to this, this is the apex of our love.

"There." He flexes his hips once, and the motion radiates everywhere. My jaw drops open in a silent moan as the pleasure radiates like a shockwaves. It reaches my toes, and I shift on him.

"Please." I mewl, bucking my hips. Mark groans as I do.

"Oh, Abby." He groans, his hands traveling up to my breasts. The air hisses between my teeth. I start to circle my hips onto his.

"Slow, baby. Feel me. All of me." Mark's hands come down to slow me down. He lifts me up agonizingly slowly, make me feel every single inch of him rubbing against my walls. I let out a begging mewl. He lets me down at the same speed, slowly filling me back up. The feeling is exquisite. He kisses me, slowly, as I slowly bounce up and down on him. My body savours the sweet torture, but soon starts to carve for more. I whimper against Mark's lips.

"Yesss." Mark breathes, his hands on my backside urging me. I pick up pace, relishing my tortuous rhythm. Oh, my man, my love, he makes me feel so good. His hands run up my stomach, and he cups my breasts. He fondles them, squeezes them, loves them, worships them, and the feeling mixes with the fire inside of me. His thumbs skim over my nipples, and he pinches them.

"Ah!" I cry out. I can feel him. He's everywhere, on my skin, under my skin, in my heart, in my soul. Feeling his lips on me, his scattered breathe, his sweat, his love, I am complete now, and this familiar crescendo starts inside of me. I connect our foreheads, my hair falling around us like an auburn cocoon as I grab his biceps for support.

"Yes, baby." My moans, his lips brushing against mine. I double my efforts, racing to my release. I grind on him harder, increasing the friction inside of me, creating sparkles between us.

"Oh, yes!" I moan in pleasure. My nails dig in his skin as all my muscles tense and threaten to spasm.

"Oh, Abby, my goddess; give it to me, baby. Come for me." Mark murmurs against my parted lips, hand his words are my undoing. Mark sets my soul on fire and I detonate in a firework. My speed erratic, my breath scattered, my inner crescendo reaches the top, and I throw my head back in ecstasy, his name rolling off my tongue over and over as I hold him close to me. At this very moment I know he'll never turn away from me, and I know we're meant to be. My orgasm washes over me like a wave, consuming me.

"Oh, baby!" My cries out, wrapping his arms around me as he thrusts sharply inside of me over and over again, finding his release. My crescendo fades away and is replaced my the sound of our scattered breaths and the silence of the room as I rest my head on his shoulder, exhausted.

"That was..." I whisper. Words fail me. That was... more. That was everything.

"Yeah." Mark agrees. That was really intense, maybe because I've missed him like crazy. That was beyond love and intimacy. It was like our souls were connected. It made me feel so loved the whole way through. I could loose that if I mess up; he showed me that with Henry. Suddenly, I'm submerged by emotion. I don't want to lose him. After all the emotions of the past days, I feel as vulnerable as ever; and this horrifying thought is just too much. Mark is alerted when I start to sniffle.

"Abby, baby, why are you crying?" He asks, making me look at him in the eyes, his are filled with concern.

"I'm sorry." I sob, dashing my tears away. They come back ten times stronger.

"What?" Mark asks.

"I know you worry about me, but I keep... I don't want you to hate me." I sob, the idea of him hating me making me even more anxious.

"Baby, I'd never hate you. What makes you think that?" Mark frowns, his voice soft. I really have to stop crying like a kid. I hiccup and sniffle, unable to get a grip of myself. I'm completely unable to articulate an understandable answer.

"Is it because of what I said about Henry?" He asks me. I nod, covering my eyes with my arm. I'm so ridiculous like this, but I can't stop crying.

"But I came to his funerals. I understood what you meant, and I forgave him." He says. He forgave him? I lower my arm to look at him.

"And I'll always forgive you, okay?" He says. Oh, Mark! I nod. He kisses my forehead, my lips, my cheek, my eye, and my runny nose.

"You worry too much." He says.

"Ditto." I reply, and he smiles. Stretching across me, he grabs the tissue box next to the sink and take one out. He places it on my nose, and suddenly I feel like a kid. I blow my nose, and he wipes my snot. He looks happy with himself. He throws the tissue in the bin.

"Can I pull my pants up or you want to attack me again?" He asks playfully. I laugh at his words. I let him pull his pants up before sitting back on his lap and he wraps his arms around me. We stay like this fire a long moment, and I'm tired, my eyelids getting heavier with each passing minute.

"Better?" Mark kisses my hair and runs his fingertips up and down my spine. I was just about to fall asleep.

"Hmmm."

"Let's be clear, that was only because you've just got off your period. You need to figure out some kind of contraception. One you can stick to, by preference." He sighs. Is he really talking about periods and contraception right now? That man... I wouldn't have him any other way.

"Hmmm."

"Do I bore you, Miss Kraige?" He asks me.

"Hmmm." He smells so good.

"You want to take a nap?"

"Hmmm."

"That's the best you can do?" I can sense his smirk.

"Hmmm." I reply. He chuckles, his chest vibrating against mine.

"Come. Let's get you in bed." He says. I reluctantly get up. Mark takes my hand and I stagger in his bedroom, my eyes half open. He leave me standing in the middle of the room while he ruffles in his drawers. My eyes close themselves.

"Abby." Mark says softly. I feel him wrap an arm around me and he pulls me to him, dropping a kiss on my forehead. I open my eyes as he pulls away. He has a T shirt in his hand.

"Hands up." I obey and he slides his shirt down my body. My vision is temporally blocked as my head gets in the hole of the shirt, hut I'm so tired that I use this brief moment of darkness to close my eyes.

"Ready for bed." He says before kissing me. I open my eyes but they close themselves on their own. Dozing off, I fall forward. Mark catches me in time, wrapping an arm around me and pressing my head against his chest. I'm vaguely aware he's chuckling, making fun of me. I'm aware he picks me up in his arms, and I drift away instantly in his embrace.


End file.
